Making Up Is Hard To Do
by Googlemouth
Summary: Post 2.15, "Burning Down The House." After betraying Maura's confidence, Jane strives to earn back her trust and friendship. Maura struggles against the resentment she still carries. Friendship/Angst with a side of Romance. Co-authored with AdmHawthorne.
1. Here's That Rainy Day

**_Making Up Is Hard To Do  
_**

**_Rizzoli & Isles_**** is owned by Tess Gerritsen, Janet Tamaro and her team of writers, WB/TNT, and lots of other important people. Not us. We make no money from this story, which is not intended to infringe upon or challenge any copyright or intellectual property.**

**This story was co-authored by Googlemouth and AdmHawthorne. You can find our other stories by searching our profiles, and follow us on Twitter as Googlemouth and Adm_Hawthorne (remember the underscore!).**

**_Making Up Is Hard To Do_**** is set after the final episode of season two of _Rizzoli & Isles_, episode 2.15, "Burning Down The House."**

**If you dislike stories about friendship and romance between two women, find other authors to read.**

* * *

**Chapter 1: Here's That Rainy Day**

* * *

Three weeks, and not a word.

At first, Jane had been able to handle it well enough. Between the investigations from Internal Affairs and her mother hounding her to make sure Dean was okay because he was "such a nice boy," she had been able to not focus on the fact that she hadn't spoken to Maura in three weeks.

That didn't mean she hadn't tried. She had tried almost every day for the first week, but the hint was loud and very clear. Maura didn't want anything to do with her, and the fact that Angela was now sleeping in Jane's bedroom while Jane slept on her couch indicated that Maura really didn't want anything to do with any of the Rizzoli clan.

That fact hurt Jane the most. She had come to rely on Maura as the person she could turn to, and her family had followed her lead. Now, with the family structure in shambles and with Jane's life as close to crumbling as it had been in a very long time, neither she nor the rest of her family had anyone but themselves to turn to. The strain of relying on each other while everyone was in crisis mode was starting to take a toll.

Jane needed to talk to Maura. She needed to apologize to her. She needed to make the other woman see how truly sorry she was for everything, and she wanted to ask... to _beg_ for forgiveness. The detective could only pray that Maura would eventually forgive her, but the first step was to actually _see_ the woman she had come to consider her best friend.

That was the tricky part.

In answer to how Jane was going to pin Maura down so they could talk, Jane had decided to treat the situation like she treated any challenge. She simply refused to give up, which was why she was sitting on Maura's front porch when the blue Prius she'd been waiting on finally pulled into the driveway.

Jane had been sitting there for a good two hours in the wind and light rain. Though she was wet, tired, and more uncomfortable than she would ever admit aloud, she remained rooted to her spot on the porch as she watched Maura step out of her car and make eye contact with her for the first time in three weeks.

Maura's startlement was understated, but visible all the same; she nearly dropped her keys as she switched the sets, car keys on one ring and house keys on the other. Though the rain partly obscured and softened the definition of her features, Jane thought she could see a tightening of lips, a crease indicative of worry between her perfectly sculpted brows.

Maura closed the garage door, then did as she'd intended all along, walking around to the front of the house to pick up the soggy newspaper that had been left this morning on the front step. Each booted click that brought her closer gave Jane more clues to add to her assessment of how things stood.

Though rain had forced her into boots, they were fashionable boots, and the leather gleamed dully beneath the brown tweed skirt and her favorite red trench coat. Her hair had been slightly altered, giving the light brown a faint reddish tinge in honor of autumn, and the style was less curly, more sleek.

Artful cosmetics smoothed over the freckles Jane knew to be beneath the foundation, gave depth and a hint of subtle color to bring out the green tones in her hazel eyes. It had no doubt been a long day, but not so long that Maura Isles had forgotten to reapply lipstick before leaving work, wherever work happened to be these days; the color was a dusky pink with a brownish undertone, and gave some much-needed freshness to her face.

She looked good.

Beneath the makeup, though, someone who knew her as well as Jane did could see faint traces of fatigue in the slight darkening of the nasojugal folds, the name of which Jane wished she could not remember quite so clearly at the moment, and there was a part of Maura's lower lip which looked as though it was being habitually worried by nervous white teeth lately. Her hands, one of which held the brown umbrella overhead were well kept, but showed no trace of polish.

For Maura, she looked terrible.

She picked up the paper from right beside Jane's leg on the front step, pulled the mail out of its slot, and opened the door with the jangle of keys. Then she stepped inside and closed the door, having given no acknowledgement whatsoever, apart from that one jarring moment when she had seen Jane and the world had tilted.

But the porch light did go on. That was something.

With a heavy sigh, Jane ran a hand through her damp hair and stood up. Uncertainty ran through her mind for a split second before she found her resolve again and walked around the house to the back door, jumping the fence on her way.

She followed the string of lights as they came on. Jane was familiar with Maura's habits, and she knew what the other woman was likely to do and where she was likely to go in her home after getting in from wherever she'd been all day. Sound in that knowledge, Jane kept following the path of lights until they stopped in the living area, and Jane stopped in front of the curtainless bay window.

As she suspected, she could see Maura starting to make her way about the room in preparation for whatever show she was going to watch that night. Jane's first instinct was to rap on the glass, but she stopped herself in mid-motion. The thought occurred to her that Maura would ignore the sound, so the attempt would be pointless. Instead, she turned to find the stool she knew was sitting on the back porch, pulled it up to the window, and took a seat.

Quietly, she sat and watched for a moment. There was little doubt Maura knew she was there. She hadn't tried to keep from being heard or seen, and, now that she was settled on the stool and visible, she wasn't going to go anywhere until Maura decided to talk to her.

Jane was prepared to spend days just sitting and waiting outside of Maura's home until the owner gave in and let her in. It was either sit and wait or go back home to find her mother ready and waiting to pounce on her about Dean. Between the two, the idea of possibly starving to death outside of Maura's window was a much more appealing option than having to deal with Angela and her weird obsession with getting Jane to make up with Agent Dean.

For the sake of certainty, Jane gave in to her first urge and tapped lightly on the glass before scooting back on the stool, crossing her arms, and waiting in the cold, misty rain.

The woman inside did not acknowledge the sound. She simply turned on the television to a TiVo'd news program and headed towards the kitchen, letting Rachel Maddow accompany her as she made rice, chopped vegetables and chicken breasts, and stir-fried the latter two. The kitchen island hid her lower body, and for a moment herself, as Maura leaned down to get something out of the dish washer. A few things, apparently, which she took to the dining table. There she was hidden, but in a few moments she came back, hands empty, and turned off the heat under the wok.

There was wine; she poured a glass, and also a glass of water, to take into the dining room.. Her movements now were slow and leisurely. She disappeared next into the bedroom, and returned wearing something closer to loungewear - clingy yoga-style pants, but a bit more upscale than gym clothes, and a light sweater, with little ballet house slippers.

A glance at the clock confirmed the requisite twenty minutes had passed. Maura turned off the rice and took the pot itself into the dining room, rather than put it into a serving dish.

Still, she did not sit. She turned off the news program, letting silence reign in her house, and then took one more trip to the bedroom, emerging with a bundle in her arms. Only after setting the bundle down on the side table nearest the back door did she open the sliding door and say flatly, "Shoes off. I just had the carpets cleaned. Change, and then come eat."

Without a word, Jane followed directions. She stepped inside, pulling her shoes off at the back door, and then proceeded to change into the clothes Maura had left for her. Much to Jane's surprise, she found the clothes were the black yoga pants and Boston Red Sox jersey she'd been looking for just the other night.

She started to put the wet clothes somewhere only to realize she didn't know where to put them and wasn't really sure what to do with herself. Clearing her throat and pushing down the lump there, she asked in a quiet voice, "Where do I put these?"

Maura turned and opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it, lips pursing. Jane had seen that look before. It said, _shove it up your..._ But no, that wasn't Maura's style. She probably had a much classier way of getting the same point across. "Laundry," she directed, and headed off to the dining room. She would not be making anything easy for Jane, but then again, she hadn't placed any obstacles in the way.

Other than, of course, the ongoing roadblocks that kept Jane from being able to say or ask anything without making yet one more effort. Doorstep, back porch, inside, laundry, and now she'd have to walk into the dining room with Maura already in it. Jane was going to have to work for whatever she wanted.

Padding back into the living room and right on into the dinning area, Jane said nothing as she took the seat directly across from Maura. For a long moment, she considered the honey brunette before taking in a deep breath and trudging on with her plan.

"I'm not going to eat. I know you don't want me here, and I really don't know why you wanted me to change. I would have stood outside the back door if you'd just agreed to hear me out, so here I go." She shifted, closing her eyes and centering herself before giving the speech she'd gone over at least a hundred times in her mind.

"Saying I'm sorry doesn't even begin to cover how I feel about everything that's happened, and I really don't think it would be enough no matter how many times I said it. But I _am_ sorry, Maura. I'm also really," she stopped and shook her head. The dead silence in the room and Maura's lack of reaction were hitting her harder than she had expected. On instinct, she went another direction.

"Okay, scratch that. Look," she stood up, walking back over to the back door. "I suck as a person, okay? I did some really shitty things to you, and I completely disregarded the trust you put in me as your best friend. I was with Dean when I should have been with you, and I trusted someone I hadn't even known a tenth of the amount of time I've known you. It should never have happened, and I'm more sorry than you'll ever know." She opened the back door, picked her shoes up, and started putting them on. "We've been through a lot together, Maura. I mean, how many people have had as many near death experiences together as we have? Don't answer that," she gave a humorless chuckle, "not that you would right now."

She stood, her shoes now on. "I don't really expect you to forgive me, but I wanted you to know that, if it's any consolation, I don't really forgive myself. I miss you. I miss us, our friendship, and I wanted to congratulate you. If you were looking for a way to put me in Hell on Earth, sending Ma to go live with me while I'm in the middle of a depression is a good way to get me there."

She stepped outside and back into the rain. "Penance, I guess," she grumbled as she headed back from whence she'd come just a few minutes earlier.

She was stopped by the porch light. Maura had turned on the one in front when Jane sat there, but now the back yard was flooded with light, too. The surprise and the sudden adjustment that her eyes required made Jane clumsy, and she slipped on the muddied grass. She didn't fall, but she did look silly for a moment; Maura must have loved that.

"You always need the last word, don't you?" Maura asked, irritation in her voice, as the lanky woman outside regained balance. Irritation. Not like sadness, which just got greyer over time, dustier, and would remain as a tarnish over everything it touched. Not like anger, which could grow hotter, then colder, for days or weeks at a time, sometimes years. Irritation, a momentary emotion.

The fact that irritation was an improvement should have been depressing, but for a tiny little moment, there was a spark of hope amid all the icicles hanging on their rusted friendship.

Maura's voice raised in volume, sure to be heard across her back yard. "I never sent your mother away, Jane." The statement, unrelated to her previous one, caused a pause on both their parts. Maura recovered from it first; she'd not expected that to be what she was able to say, but after all, it had come out of her mouth before it had entered Jane's ears. She tried it again, a paraphrase which would sink another hook into Jane, keeping her there, without giving more information. "I didn't tell her to move out. I wouldn't do that to her. Angela left because she didn't want you to be alone. This is her home, whenever she wants to come back."

Jane slowly turned around, crossing her arms in front of her. "That's not what she told me." She rolled her eyes, a tired gesture as opposed to an irritated one. "She said you didn't want her around anymore because she reminded you of me, and you didn't want me around anymore." Giving a small shrug and glancing to the ground, the dark haired brunette sighed. "It made sense."

Leaning against the gate behind her, Jane's gaze fell to the ground. "It's cold out here, Maura. You should go back inside."

Maura opened the door and held it open, pointedly waiting for Jane to precede her. When the thin brunette didn't move for a moment, Maura elucidated her unspoken comment. "You're getting wet all over again, and I'm letting the heat out. Come inside so Bass doesn't catch a cold." More hesitation. "Don't you want my answer?" When even that wasn't enough, she tilted her head and asked with a touch of impatience, "Would you rather just carry on like we are?"

"No," keeping her head down, Jane slowly walked back to the door, stepping inside and carefully avoiding contact of any kind with the woman holding it open. She stopped briefly to, again, take her shoes off, and then stepped to the side to stand by the wall and next to the door to wait out whatever was about to come at her.

"Have some dinner," Maura said, sounding like the perfect hostess, for whom nothing was a problem and all things were rosy. That was not the story told by her face, however. She was tired. No, not tired. Sad. "Please. I'm hungry and chilled, and I know you're cold too, even if you're not hungry, so please, just eat dinner with me."

"Not now," Jane said, sounding just as tired. "Look, just... Enough with the wet shoes, the carpets, and the food. Can you say something that means something?"

It looked at first as though Maura would insist on dinner, the social convention of meal sharing, the courtesy of not leaving hot food to get cold. But she didn't. She took a deep breath, held it for a count of five, and let Jane have it: quiet, controlled, and devastating. "You were always there for me. You never judged me, and you never hurt me in any real way. I always knew you had my back." Her bottom lip quivered, then stilled. "I always trusted you. I didn't even know there was a way that I could be betrayed that day, but you found it."

"Okay," Jane started to say, "I deserve-"

"I'm not finished," Maura snapped, not viciously, but with an air almost of command. This time her words were intelligible, but distorted by the roundness of the ache that thickened and tightened her throat with tears she would not give. "I miss us, I miss you so much, but I don't know how... I don't know how to not look at you and see you shooting him. I don't know how to just move past the idea that you could give away my confidences to someone who's been around you for, what, all of a week's time, if you put it all together into one lump? When I'm the one who's here, _right here,_ all the time, needing you to be my friend. I don't understand why you did it. How does that happen? How did you decide to tell him? Was there something he actually needed to do that was more important to him than my biological mother's name is to me?"

"No," Jane slowly shook her head, face showing all the regret she felt for everything. "No, there wasn't a good reason. At the time, I thought he should know because of who he was." She winced. "I mean, he was working Doyle's case, and, if Doyle was around, it was only a matter of time before Dean found out. I _thought _telling Dean about Doyle and asking him to stay clear until I gave the go ahead would keep things from getting out of hand, but you see where that got me."

"Look, I was trying to keep us safe, and I wound up messing everything up. The honest truth is that I let my hormones get ahead of my heart, and I told Dean about Doyle thinking I could trust him to help me keep you safe." With a grunt, she let her back hit the wall behind her. "_This_ is why I don't sleep with people. It clouds my judgement."

"You sl-"

Maura could not finish. She turned around and walked back to the kitchen with sharp movements, as if she still wore her heeled boots and not her soft, suede-soled slippers. Both hands gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, arms stiffly holding her body back from slumping over its granite surface. Loud, slow, unsteady breaths wisped through the room, competing with the rain as it insisted on proving its might outside, on her windows, porch, roof. "You slept with him, and _that's_ why you trusted him with my f... my father's life?"

No answer was expected; that much was clear. "You're right. Sex does cloud your judgment." Her voice was cold, but she turned back around and actually looked at Jane, and her eyes were different. This time they saw her, rather than simply flinging acrimony at her. "Well, that's it. That is absolutely the end of it."

The bottom dropped out of Jane's stomach. Maura would have argued the point, but Jane was pretty sure a stomach _could_ drop right out of a person. She'd just felt it.

But Maura had more to say. "Once we're past this, I am _never_ going to try to set you up again."

Jane's jaw literally fell open. Of all the things she had expected the doctor to say, that wasn't even on the list or near the ballpark. It took her a couple of breaths to get her mind to register that Maura wasn't yelling at her or even giving her a list of reasons why she never wanted to see Jane again. Once that was settled in her thoughts, it took a few more breaths to work out how she wanted to respond to what had actually been said.

"_Sooooo_," she drew out the vowel as she thought about everything happening, "you're not mad at me?" Confusion replaced grief on the lanky brunette's face. "Or you _are _mad at me, but you _don't _hate me? Or you _hate _me _right now_ but you're not completely pissed at me? Or... I don't even... Could you throw me a bone here?"

"I'm pi-... I'm angry," Maura replied, and the chill remained in her demeanor. The chill and the distance. "I hated you then. I hated you, and maybe I still do. I don't want to, but I think I do." Fingers clenched, hanging onto the countertop's edge at either side of her hips, as she blew out a long breath. "No, I don't hate you. I hate what you did. I hate that you endangered my... Patrick's life, and I hate that you entrusted it to that _ass_ Gabriel Dean."

Impatience again, and this time it made her shove forward, away from the cabinets and pace about the kitchen, unsettled and unable not to show it. "I hate that I love you and miss you so much that I _want_ to forgive all that just so I can have us back. I don't know what to do. I see some alternatives open to me, but I don't like any of them."

Tense arms wrapped around her abdomen, as they had outside, but this time not from cold. It was disquieting for Jane to realize that she could read this strange woman, that she knew her well enough to know that Maura was giving herself the hug she wasn't getting anywhere else. Her face crumpled. "And the worst part is that what I want to do, more than anything, is to ask my best friend for advice and comfort. What do I do, Jane? How do I... I don't know how to get you back. I just _hurt_ so much. It's like being bruised all over, and I want..." She snorted, loudly and unattractively, and reached for a paper towel near the sink to blow her nose. "I want to stop hating you now. Please, how do I do that?"

"I don't know, Maura," the answer was quiet. "I don't know how to answer that because I don't really know how to stop hating myself for all of this. Maybe," Jane pushed off the wall and stepped into the kitchen, stopping just a few paces away from the smaller woman. She restarted her thoughts, "Maybe we should start with something simple?" She shrugged, opening her arms in a wide gesture. "Hug?"

_Don't touch him! I mean it, don't you dare touch him!_

Her own words, shrill and sharp, echoed back to Maura across the weeks. She'd said it, meant it, but implicit in that hiss three weeks ago was another command: don't touch _me_. Maura hesitated, remembering the strength of her sudden rush of... yes, hate was the word. The look on Jane's face had not left her thoughts for more than an hour since that day, nor had the venom she'd felt poisoning herself, burning in her stomach and her veins. She couldn't remove her arms from around herself, not now. She couldn't stop feeling it, couldn't be less angry.

Which was why it surprised her when she found herself right up next to Jane, so near she could feel the rain-sodden woman's body heat reasserting itself after her chill outdoors. It surprised her more when she realized she'd been the one to take the steps across the kitchen floor and lean in. And the biggest surprise was that when Jane's arms enfolded her, Maura didn't want to push her away and tell her to go to hell. All she could do was shake, and sob.

Jane held her, letting her cry and allowing herself to do the same. As they stood there, relief flooded her thoughts. Maura _did not_ hate her. "Hey," she whispered softly, after they'd cried themselves out. "Let's sit down, okay?"

"Uh huh," Maura agreed, heading towards the living room, where a box of facial tissues, half empty, waited for her as it had every day since that one. The rest of the tissues were in the wicker basket beneath the side table, where she now dropped the paper towel.

Her face was red, especially her nose. Her eyes were bloodshot. She looked dreadful.

But she didn't hate Jane now. That was something.

* * *

**_Chapter title taken from a song by Jimmy Van Heusen and lyrics by Johnny Burke._**

**Please review. It will mean the world to me and AdmHawthorne.**

**Note: This story is fully written, but only partially edited. I'm posting each chapter as we finish our final edits thereof, so that we don't have to wait any longer to begin sharing the story with you.**


	2. Autumn Leaves

**We're so flattered that so many of you thought to review so quickly after the first chapter was posted. It made us feel great. :) I'll be trying to reply to some or all of those when I get the chance. If your review isn't one of the ones I answer, it's because all I can think to say is, "THANK YOU!" and it doesn't seem productive to send an entire PM just for that. But trust me, it's heartfelt. I'm grateful for every single one of you and every single one of your words. I know that AdmHawthorne feels just the same.**

**To the reviewer who mentioned how glad you were that our story didn't turn Rizzoli and Isles into lesbians:  
I urge you to reread the boldface introduction to the fic (chapter 1). I specifically mentioned that if you don't want to see that, you might want to read other authors. While I may someday write or co-write a story that has our heroines remaining just friends - and yes, women can be platonic friends, as I am with the vast majority of women in my life - that's not the way AdmHawthorne and I want to see Jane and Maura. We get plenty of platonic friendship from the TV series. We write to serve _our_ needs and _our_ community's needs, not those of the community who are being served by the majority of mainstream media. ****If you don't want to think of Jane and Maura as being romantically inclined towards one another, you won't enjoy our work. If you do keep reading, and then later complain when I do the "I told you so" dance, you have only yourself to blame.**

**One more time: This fic is marked Friendship/ROMANCE for a reason. I told you that in the notes/disclaimers at the beginning of chapter 1. If you don't care for that, read something else.**

* * *

**Chapter 2: Autumn Leaves (Les Feuilles Mortes)**

* * *

They sat quietly on the sofa for a time. Jane kept her arms around her friend, pulling her close as they settled. It took time for them to clear enough emotional baggage to speak, and, when speech finally found its way back between them, it was quiet and segmented, as their thoughts were.

It was Jane that started, clearing her throat before speaking softly into the stillness of the room, "I don't really deserve your forgiveness, but, if you really forgive me, I promise I'll spend the rest of my life making this up to you."

"I want to," came Maura's voice, muffled against the taller woman's shoulder. "I want to just be over it, and move past it, and not make you pay for it anymore. I don't know why I want that. I mean," she corrected, sitting up a bit to grab a facial tissue from the coffee table, pass it to Jane, and take another for herself, "I know why, but it doesn't make any sense. I should hate you a lot more than I do. I should just be able to walk away." Her voice was still strained, but not distorted any longer; there were no more tears to shed.

Jane cleared her throat. "Well, I mean, why? No, wait, I know why you'd want to walk away. But it's never easy, trust me."

"You're wrong," Maura said, this time without rancor, just residual unease. "Friendships are easy to walk away from. Easy to do without. No matter how close you think a relationship is, it can always end. It's just a matter of realizing that someone's hurt you, or you've hurt them, or that you don't have anything in common anymore. So... you know... I should just be able to do that."

The sentiment was foreign to Jane, and she said so. "You could just turn off your feelings like that?"

Maura nodded. "It's a subset, I suppose, of compartmentalization. You realize those feelings aren't serving your needs anymore, and so you just put them away. You know, like a pair of shoes from two years ago."

Distracted, Jane looked across the room at the running shoes she'd worn to Maura's. They weren't old, but then, running shoes wore out. She was hard on running shoes. "It sounds kind of like you treat friendships like you treat your shoes. You get tired of them and throw them out. I don't know how you do that, Maura."

"Shoes go out of style," Maura pointed out. "If you cared about that, you'd give them away to charity or throw them out, because they wouldn't serve your _current_ needs. Friends come and go, too, Jane. They enter your life, and they're really great for a while, and then sooner or later they don't want to be there anymore, so they stop calling, stop having time for you. Or they do something on purpose that they know will hurt you, so you'll be the one who stops calling them."

Jane could not believe what she was hearing. Was Maura actually that cold? Or was it simply that no one had wanted to keep her friendship badly enough to work past problems, and that she hadn't seen any way to do so either? "To me, if you're my friend, you're a part of my life, and I fight for people who are a part of my life. It's not like," again she looked to the shoes at the door, "shoes. I mean, I get that sometimes friends come and go, but I don't just drop someone I care about because they're out of fashion. How can I? If I love them, if I care about them, then they're worth fighting for." She shrugged, looking down at the carpet before her. "At least that's how I feel about it anyway. That's why I'm here. I care about you. You're worth fighting for."

It caught Maura up short, and she looked abashed. Or ashamed. Or, perhaps, apologetic. "It's odd for me to think in those terms. And it's odd for me to feel so ambiguous about this. I want to either hate you and be _fine_ with dropping you from my life, or not hate you and be okay with having you in it. I don't like this muddiness."

Much to both of their surprises, Jane chuckled. Wiping at her face, she finally turned to the woman beside her, a small smirk forming despite the deep sadness still in her eyes. "I feel the same way about Ma most of the time." She leaned forward, elbows on her knees but kept her head turned to Maura. "Thing is, I love her, and I know she means well. A lot of the time, I hate what she does, but I still love her. If I just flat out hated her, I'd walk away because she's done some pretty messed up stuff to me, you know?"

Jane waved her hand in the air to dismiss whatever Maura might say as she leaned back against the cushions. "I know you know. My point is, Maura, has it ever occurred to you that maybe you care about me enough to think I might be worth fight for, too? Relationships," she motioned between the two of them, "they're not black and white like that. You know that. You see it everyday on the job. There's _a lot _of gray." Giving a turn to completely face the doctor, she sighed heavily. "Maybe you're like me with Ma? Maybe you just love me too much to hate me?"

"No, I hate you," Maura replied easily. "Like you hated me when... the legal issue arose with Tommy. But I love you, too. See? It's muddy. I don't like a mess. I don't handle ambiguity well."

"Hey!" Jane's eyebrows pulled down into an angry scowl. "I forgave you for that Tommy mess. Besides, I only hated you a _little_. I got over it." She crossed her arms, leaning her back against the armrest. "You know I can't stay angry with you." Under her breath, she mumbled, "_So_ whipped."

Almost, almost, there was a smile. Certainly Maura's general demeanor took on a shade of sheepishness as she said, "I'm having a hard time with it, too." Her hand snuck towards Jane, but pulled back towards its fellow, still resting on her own lap. "I miss having a best friend. I miss being a best friend. And I don't think I want to accept the job offer to teach at BCU."

"Then _don't_ hate me, and come take your job back." Sinewy hands flew about, gesturing wildly. "The substitute ME sucks. Pike's a pompous ass who guesses about sh... stuff all the freaking time, and he's anal retentive about the wrong stuff, like what order his tools go, instead of about the evidence. Come on, Maura, can we _please_ bury the hatchet? We need you back at the station, and I," Jane began to plead. "I need you back in my life. What do I have to do? I'm up for almost anything here. I'll... I'll even agree to wear one of those outfits you keep trying to get me to put on... in public... around people we know."

A whine escaped the dark haired woman. "_Please_, Maura?"

Catching one of those wild hands, Maura brought it down out of the air and held it fast. "Can I just say I want to try? I don't know if I'm able to do that, but..." She sounded helpless to change course. "I don't think I know how to _not_ try anymore, either." Her stomach rumbled, and she pinkened at the neck and ears. "And can we just eat dinner and talk about something that doesn't matter and is easy, and then go back to the hard part?"

Pulling her hand gently away, Jane stood with a shake of her head. "Normally, I'd say yes. God knows I want to go back to normal, but," she walked back to her shoes and began putting them on, "I can't pretend things are okay when they're not either." Rummaging around in the pocket of her yoga pants, she pulled out a key. "You left this with Ma. It's still yours. I'm going to go. Just... just think about it, okay? Sometimes not hating someone just means caring about them more than hating the thing that they did."

She walked to the front, leaving the key on the island as she passed. "You know how to find me, and I don't want to overstay my welcome this time." Giving a small but still sad smile, she opened the front door. "Good night, Maura." With that, she left, closing the door behind her.

* * *

The next day, the home phone rang while Jane was putting away the last of the dinner dishes. Angela was closer, and she answered it. "Hello?" Her eyes went wide, and she turned swiftly towards Jane. "Do you want to...? Oh." Just as quickly, she whirled back around and lowered her voice. "Yeah. Well, no, but... Okay. Are you sure? Oh. But if... Yeah. Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

She went back to doing what she'd been doing, which was opening the can of dog food to give Joe Friday her evening treat, with nary a word about the phone call.

From her place in the kitchen and without bothering to turn around, Jane asked, "You going to tell me what that was about, or are you going to make me work for it?"

Angela Rizzoli would never have made a professional poker player, not with an 'innocent' face like that one. "What?" she asked, voice a touch too high in pitch. One shoulder raised as if to make a nonchalant shrug, but she couldn't quite pull it off. "Oh, that? That was nothing. Just M... my friend."

Jane gave her mother the face. "Really? I'm a detective, Ma. Try again."

Angela held her breath for a moment, then let it out explosively. "It was just Maura," she said, once again trying to just skate past the gaping hole, but the ice was already too thin. "All right, all right!" she exclaimed before Jane could really turn on the third degree. "Maura wanted to know if I was sure I didn't want to move back in."

The wheels turned. "If you were sure?" Jane repeated, closing the cabinet and absently picking up a dish towel, plucking at a snagged thread near the edge. "So... she's asked you _before_, and you told her no?"

Angela's lips pressed together.

Jane scowled. "How often has she been calling here? Damn it, Ma!"

Angela mumbled. Looked away. Pretended to clean the already spotless counter.

"_Ma!"_

"Almost every day."

"You know, for someone who is _supposed_ to be helping me deal with my best friend dropping me like a hot potato, you kind of suck at supporting me here." Jane tossed the towel on top of counter, frowned at it, picked it up, and folded it. "You know I love you, Ma, but it would really help me a lot more if you _weren't_ here." She placed the folded towel on the counter. "It's really not going to hurt my feelings if you move back to Maura's. I'm really okay with it."

"Yeah?" Angela looked hopeful. Jane's apartment really was too small for more than one person if the two weren't a lot closer than a mother and daughter could or should be. "All I brought with me was my clothes. I could be back there by the weekend."

"What about the storage place with all your furniture?" Jane asked. "You want me to get Tommy and Frankie and all move it back there for you?"

This time, Angela's nonchalance was smug, not nervous. "It's being stored at the guest house at Maura's."

Jane's jaw dropped. "Seriously?"

Smug, smug, smug. "I knew this wouldn't last. You adore each other. You're like two peas in a pod. It was just a matter of time before you were friends again."

"Yeah, well, don't count your chickens before they hatch." Her daughter gave a firm two finger point. "She's talking to me, but she says she'll _try_ to not hate me. It's something, but it's not like we're back to sleepovers or anything." With a sigh, Jane walked over to the counter to take a seat at one of the bar stools. "I messed this one up pretty bad... ly. Badly." She flinched. "Why do I even care about that right now?" The question was more to herself than her mother. "Anyway, this one is going to take some time, so don't push us." She looked up to her mother, eyes pleading. "Okay?"

Angela crossed the kitchen and swept her daughter into one of the better hugs known to humankind: the mommy hug, full of love and support and warmth, and comfort. "Okay, sweetie," she said, kissing Jane's hair. "If I'm back there, maybe you'll have more excuses to come over to see me? And, if you happen to run into Maura while you're there, you know..."

"Maura and I will work it out on our own." Giving Angela a squeeze before pulling away, Jane stood up with a bit of a bounce in her step. "Any chance we could get you moved in tonight? Not that I don't love having you around, but it's Saturday night, and I'm getting tired of sleeping on the sofa."

"Sure," Angela replied with a final pat to the back. "Get me a box for the stuff in my drawers, and then pull up the car. I'll call Maura and let her know we changed my mind."

Within the hour, Angela's clothing and toothbrush were on the way back to the guest house.

* * *

The following week went on just like the three before, with the exception that Angela was no longer occupying Jane's bed. Jane finally managed to get a decent night's rest over the course of the week when she wasn't working late on cases, but her mind would not rest. Maura did not call. and she was not back at work. Pike was still occupying the Chief Medical Examiner's office, and she hated every day she had to see his haughty face and listen to his condescending attitude.

The weekend was a welcome relief, but it didn't bring any sign of Maura, and Jane felt awkward going over to even visit her mother at the guest house when she still wasn't sure where Maura stood on things. Instead, she stayed home all weekend and tried to catch up on her shows from the week.

The following Monday morning started out in the usual way. The alarm clock screamed, and Jane whomped it with her entire hand repeatedly until it granted her ten more minutes' rest. It screamed again, and this time she bolted upright, pulled the gun out of her bedside table, and pointed it at the clock. "One more time," she threatened, then sighed and put the gun back. One finger flicked the button that would turn it off for good, then back on so it would ring again tomorrow. "You are so lucky I don't keep it loaded," she informed the inanimate object as she struggled off to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

There was no more coffee in her kitchen. Not even that crappy instant stuff that she used as her last resort.

There was a rip in her suit pants, acquired not by chasing down a perp, but by brushing up against the chain-link fence while taking out the garbage (which had leaked onto her floor and all down the stairs and out to the dumpster as well).

Jo Friday stepped on something sharp on their morning walk, and had to be carried back home and cleaned up.

The 'change oil' light went on in Jane's car on her way to the precinct.

And, just as she'd gotten herself a cup of swill at the cafe, nicely sock-flavored, and gotten enough cream and sugar into it to mostly mask the taste, she got a call to a crime scene. "Perfect," she muttered to her mother as she handed the coffee back. "This day already sucks, and now I get to deal with Pike before I even get decent cup of coffee." Grumbling all the way, she headed out to the address that had been texted to her, ordering her car to just hold on until later, when she could take care of the oil situation.

The crime scene wasn't actually that far away, just a few blocks down and one to the left. It was, in fact, right outside a convenience store which was across the street from Maura's favorite coffee house, the one with her frou-frou drinks that cost a buck more than similarly fluffy ones at Starbucks. Jane sighed. When would that get easier, seeing places that Maura liked, or where they'd gone together and she hadn't liked? It didn't matter right now: there was a job to do.

Sighing again, Jane presented her ID to the uni securing the scene, and glanced with resentment at the body wagon, where Pike was probably alphabetizing his rubber gloves and sample swabs and tubes before coming out to view the body that was the sole reason for his presence. As usual.

She liked to get a good view of the overall area before delving into the scene. Jane stood with hands on hips, noting the presence of passers-by, placement of street lights, a car in the handicap spot, the uniformed officers already guarding the scene's perimeter as defined by bright yellow crime scene tape. The Halloween drawing on the store window, a ghost and a skeleton gesturing an embrace around the neon Miller Light sign, had been marred by a gunshot placed somewhere near the ghost's midsection, and the twenty-something guy with the scraggly beard, wearing the store's name tag, was already shakily giving a statement outside the scene, sitting on the hood of the black-and-white.

Another glance around showed two cars with busted tail lights, but one didn't have any shards of glass or plastic nearby; it hadn't taken place here. The one that had the shards beneath the rear bumper, that was evidence. She beckoned another detective over, relieved to see that it was her brother. Good. "Frankie, get samples of that breakage, and some pictures. Korsak and Frost couldn't make it, huh?"

"Frost is off today," Frankie replied, "and Korsak's inside. He said I could probably handle the outside stuff until you got here. I'm shadowing him." He tried so hard to sound casual, but Jane could hear the pride leaking into his voice, as it did every time he mentioned doing anything as a detective. He had job-shadowed detectives assigned to cases involving robbery, narcotics, kidnappings, and a couple of homicides, and was showing himself to be fairly well cut out for the job, even though he had not yet been assigned a permanent post with any one division.

Jane smiled; Frankie, she decided, could be the much needed bright spot in this hell of a morning. "Good. Why don't you show me what you've found so far, and then we'll go over the whole thing together, so you've got something to tell Korsak when he gets out? Then we'll go take a look inside and check out the body."

Frankie looked a little odd, but nodded. "Thanks, sis."

"Any time." One slender hand clapped her brother's shoulder in fraternal affection, but not too much - no more than she'd have given Frost while on the job, so no one would tease Frankie about being his big sister's _baby_ brother - and they got to work. It didn't take long; CSU would be the ones to truly process the scene, but the detectives needed at least a little bit of an idea of where things were. Once they'd finished their survey of the outside of the shop, Jane led Frankie inside for a closer look at the actual location of the shooting.

On the way in, she spied Korsak, whose mood was just too cheerful for a Monday morning, and making conversation about the body, his countenance directed down as if to someone squatting over the body. "Korsak," she called out, glad to see him, but not at all thrilled about the prospect of dealing with Pain-In-The-Ass Pike. "What have we got? And is the _good ME_ going to give us anything useful?" Jane's voice went snide. She just couldn't help herself. She rounded the corner, Frankie on her heels, and caught up short at what she saw.

She'd expected the body. Expected the blood, the face blown half off the victim. Expected shattered glass, and a few leaking cans of peas in line with the window and the guy's head.

What Jane hadn't expected was the medical examiner. She'd been looking for Pike, hunched over and guessing about everything from cause of death (obvious, in this case, thanks to multiple witnesses and, it would turn out later, security camera footage) to motive, age and race of the shooter, and how long it would take the "incompetent" detectives to find him. Or her, he would say with a little mocking head-tilt towards Jane, as if granting her an honor of some kind.

She'd expected Pike. She'd gotten...

"_Maura."_ The name issued from her mouth, as much a surprise to her as to anyone else. Navy dress with a modern floral print, a startling fuchsia platform stiletto shoe, lab coat that looked as though it had been tailored to fit her, and one of those ponytails that were supposed to look careless and carefree, but that actually took a good ten minutes to get just right - she'd seen it being done, a lifetime ago, when their friendship was still easy.

Jane gawked, disbelieving her eyes. It was a dream. She'd had them often enough, just like this. Of course, in dreams, she couldn't remember the entire process of the morning that had gotten her to that moment. This time, she could remember every event that had happened today, so the logical part of her mind absolutely knew it couldn't be a dream. But it had to be. Didn't it? She would wake up before Maura could turn her head and look at her; or she would wake up when Maura _did_ look at her, with loathing.

Maura's head turned. She smiled. It wasn't that brilliant smile that advertised excitement at getting to share the process of discovery, the hunt, with her best friend. It was small. Hesitant. But she looked right at Jane and said, in tones just slightly to the friendlier side of neutral, and lower in pitch, as if no one else was meant to hear it, "Hello, Jane."

All eyes turned from the medical examiner kneeling to the detective standing dumbfounded just a few feet away. Sensing that she was suddenly under everyone's watchful eye, Jane gave herself a mental shake down. Now was not the time to have an emotional moment. Reaching back to pull her hair up into a ponytail of her own before pulling her gloves on, she nodded, eyes saying so much more than her voice, which, though gruffer than normal, was at least steady. "I hope Pike had a good trip back up state," she said with a complete lack of sincerity as she stepped over the police tape and knelt beside the body. "So... reddish brown stains? Time of death? Coffee?"

Korsak gave a grunt of confusion to the seemingly non sequitur list of of questions but decided to remain silent to see how the rest of this conversation played out.

Behind Jane, Frankie coughed. Without even looking, she knew he'd be looking downward and off to one side, head pulled back, thumbs running along the inside of his waistband as if he were a much heftier man. It was the same cough, the same stance, he invariably made when embarrassed.

"Yes," replied Maura in the same low voice, intent upon Jane's expression. "Yes," and after the second one, she stood upright, stepping away from the body and motioning to the scene crew to take it away, "reddish brown stains. Well, reddish. _If_ they're blood, they're somewhat fresh, but they're beginning to coagulate around the edges. I can't tell you time of death, though I'm told that there will be security footage that will establish both time and manner, so my duty will be more along the lines of confirming those things, and finding other evidence that may point to other helpful information. And yes, I would love coffee. When you're free."

"Just kiss," grumbled some helpful so-and-so in the background said, and then Frankie moved. As Jane kept her eyes on Maura, lest she disappear in a cloud of alarm clock, she heard her brother turn, take two steps, and pop someone upside the head. Only at the curse of irritation did either woman look away from the other, Jane to clear her throat and talk about collecting evidence and visiting the morgue later, Maura removing her gloves and murmuring about supervising her crew's treatment of the body on their way back to the precinct.

The medical examiner paused on the way out the door and turned around, hesitating a moment as if about to speak. Instead of finding words, though, she merely shook her head and walked away, but not before more than one person caught the beginnings of a timid, uncertain smile.

Jane turned around to face her brother. "Hey, did you get those security tapes yet?"

Shifting uncomfortably from watching the doctor to looking at his sister, he nodded. "Yeah, we're on it. The owners are already getting a copy for us. Shouldn't be long. You, uh," he ran a hand across the back of his neck, trying to figure something out. "You don't have to stick around. I mean, it's pretty cut and dry. We've got the security footage, and Korsak's already talked to the witnesses. Right, Korsak?"

The older detective startled at the sound of his name. "Yeah, yeah," he nodded. "I've got a couple more people to talk to. If you want to sit this one out and finish out that paperwork..."

"What? No! Paperwork? You're kidding, right?" Jane snapped, scowling at both of them. "You two are acting funny. Stop it." She pulled out her notebook. "Who haven't you talked to already? I want to talk to them, and, when we get back, I want see your notes, Korsak. Frankie, stop standing there like you're waiting for an invitation. Go get those tapes."

"Right, yeah," Frankie spun on his heels toward the back to check on the tapes while Korsak pointed out the rest of the witnesses that needed to be interviewed.

* * *

******_Chapter title taken from a song by Joseph Kosma with lyrics by Johnny Mercer and Jacques Prevert._**

**Reviews don't make us write, but they do make it a lot more gratifying to _post_ what we write. ;)**


	3. What's New?

**This is _still_ a fic that contains elements of romance between the titular characters of _Rizzoli & Isles_. If you don't like that, read something else.**

**For those of you who are still with me, there is no sex in this fic. Implicit or explicit, it's not there at all. Romance, yes. Sex, no. We still feel it will be satisfying, for those who aren't just looking for a quick porn fix.**

* * *

**Chapter 3: What's New?**

* * *

It was shortly after noon before Jane was able to take a break. She checked her watch, noted the time, and realized she hadn't heard anything from the lab yet or even a time for the autopsy. With a grunt, she stood up and announced her intentions. "I'm going down to the morgue to see if Maura's come up with anything, and I'm going to try to grab something to eat. Call me if something comes up?"

Korsak nodded. "Yeah, bring me something back?"

She shrugged. "What do you want?"

"Hoagie?"

"Got it," Jane called out as she headed to the stairs.

Hopping down the stairs two at a time, she popped opened the door and stepped into the morgue, which was surprisingly quiet given the active case. She frowned, looking around to find someone. A lab tech was working away on samples, but the actual morgue was empty. Frowning deeply, she quietly walked to the medical examiner's office and knocked on the door, hoping to hear Maura's voice and not Pike's. "Please, please, _please_," she muttered to herself as she opened the office door, "don't let this morning have been some messed up hallucination."

"If you're hallucinating," Maura's voice came from well atop her desk, "maybe you should sit down and let me examine you."

Maura stood atop her desk, barefoot, adjusting the bulb in the light fixture over her head. Or, rather, replacing; the old one lay nearby on the desk, precariously close to falling off. "Just give me a moment first, and I'll see if..."

"Figure of speech," Jane had the presence of mind to reply as she dashed forward to catch the long, fluorescent tube on its way to the floor. "Jeez! You have to be careful with these things, Maur'! There could've been glass all over the floor, and where the hell are your shoes?" she demanded, though she could clearly see them resting on the floor where she had stepped out of them before climbing onto her desk.

Maura's hands stilled on the fixture halfway through the chastisement, frozen in place. There was a light sniff, then another, before she went back to work, installing the bulbs she preferred, the ones that mimicked natural sunlight instead of that bluish glow that Pike had had put in when the old bulb burnt out on his watch. "Maur'?" she repeated quietly once she could take her hands away safely, and reached out for the light fixture cover.

Waiting for Maura to finish putting the light fixture back on, Jane then stretched up to place her hands around Maura's waist. She pulled down to guide the doctor off the desk and keep her from falling. "You could have waited," she continued to be cross with the smaller woman's lack of apparent safety measures. "I would have done this for you so you didn't have to stand on top of your desk like that." With another growl of disapproval, Jane turned Maura around to face her once she was safely on the ground.

It was then she finally saw the tears in other woman's eyes. "Oh, hey," she moved her hands up to hold onto the smaller woman's upper arms, bending her head down to make full eye contact. "What's wrong? What did I do wrong?" She was clearly starting to panic. "How do I fix it?"

Maura was already on tiptoe, requiring that extra height to keep her out of Jane's cleavage as she wrapped her arms around her taller friend in her intimidate-the-suspects tall boots, and sniffled again. "Called me Maur'. Nobody else calls me that."

"Oh," Jane replied, feeling stupid. Had she earned back the right to use her friend's shorter name? Or, for that matter, to think of Maura as her friend? "I'm sorry. I didn't think. You were on top of your desk, and I was scared you'd fall, and..."

Another sniff. "I missed having a nickname."

Relief. It was okay.

A lab assistant poked his head in. "Dr. Isles, I have the resul... Um. Uh." He cleared his throat, looking suspiciously like Frankie in that moment. "Just... when you get a chance," he finished lamely and left, closing the door behind him.

Neither woman even twitched to indicate that she had registered his presence.

"I knew today would be," Maura paused over the word, clearly going down a list to find just the right nuance, "fraught."

"Fraught?" The detective chuckled but didn't try to step out of the impromptu embrace. "That's a good word for it." She gave a little squeeze and pulled back but kept her hands on the doctor's arms, maintaining contact. "I came down to see if you'd found anything and to see if you might be up for having lunch with me. You said this morning you were up for coffee, but I thought lunch might be better." She winced, trying not to overstep or go too quickly too soon. "If, you know, you can before you start the autopsy. I know you're probably really busy getting everything together from Pike coming in and messing up the perfect system you had going on."

Pulling back from the contact and wrapping her arms around herself, Jane shrugged. "That assistant probably has a hole burning in his pocket with those results anyway. I can... I can just go back upstairs and order something..."

Maura pulled back on herself, looking nervous and chilled as she stepped backward and around the desk to get her shoes. But, as Jane was making her awkward escape, she spoke up, shoes in hand. "Lunch would be good. I'm... I do need to reorganize, but that can wait until afterward. Would you like to go out, or get something and bring it here? Or, I mean, if you'd rather not, you don't have to, just to be nice. You don't have to keep apologizing. N-not that you were doing that, but just in case you thought... Um. Well, anyway, I want to eat lunch, and I'd rather eat with you. If you want."

"I'm probably going to apologize a lot for a little while," Jane stopped trying to move to the door. "Sorry," she rolled her eyes but moved on. "I told Korsak I'd bring him back a hoagie, so let's go out. Beside, if we eat here, everyone and their dog will be watching us to see what we're doing. I'd rather not be the entire focus of precinct drama today, and you know Ma probably won't be able to stop herself from meddling if we eat in the cafe."

She opened the door, holding it for the other woman. "I hate to ask, but can you drive? My car needs an oil change, and I promised him I'd take care of him today, but I think he'll probably just get pissy if I drive him more than I have to until I can get him to the shop." A very small smirk playing on her features, she joked, "You know how temperamental he is."

Swiftly Maura re-donned her shoes and grabbed her purse, neatened her dress, and headed for the door Jane was so considerately holding. One word caught her up short, however, and she stopped walking right inside the door frame. "He who?"

Despite herself, Jane blushed. "Henry... um... my car."

"Your car is male?" Maura wondered, looking up in frank confusion.

As Jane hemmed and hawed over an explanation that wouldn't make her look ridiculous, Maura completed her own question. "I find that interesting, because in my more fanciful moments, I think of my car as a girl. I think most people do regard vehicles as female, other than the Russians, who refer to their submarines and ships with the male pronoun. Her name's Sally. My car, I mean. Even though she's not a Mustang."

A real laugh escaped the lanky brunette. "Yeah, well," she motioned for Maura to start to the elevators as she pulled the office door closed behind her, "I think most people think of their cars as girls, but my car sort of reminds me of an ex-boyfriend I had at the academy, Henry Rollins. He was temperamental, high maintenance, and required a lot more of my attention than I thought he really deserved." She pushed the call button as she continued to explain. "Plus, he managed to be the center of attention wherever we went, which is all a lot like my car. Of course, Henry got people's attention because he was a little flamboyant. My car gets it because it's just loud and a POS."

Frowning in thought as she held the elevator door for Maura to step in, Jane gave out a puff of frustrated air. "You know, thinking about it now, I should have known Henry was gay." She glanced to Maura, who was giving her a puzzled look. "Um, Henry my ex, not Henry my car."

She cleared her throat. "_Anyway,_ I don't know when I started, but I just sort of named my car Henry because he was a lot like, well, Henry." She hit the button to take them up to the parking garage and gave an uneasy glance about the elevator, trying to ignore the blush on her cheeks.

Not that Maura could ignore it. She decided to ask instead of letting the blush go unnoticed. "What's wrong?"

"You're kinda looking at me weird," Jane answered, not quite making eye contact.

"Because you're exhibiting signs of embarrassment, discomfort, or shame. I don't know which," Maura elucidated, "so I don't know what to say to make you feel better. Did I cause it?"

"_Nooooo_," Jane pulled the one syllable word out as she tried to think of the best way to explain her current discomfort. "I just... well, I don't... Maura," rolling her eyes again at herself, she held the doors as they stepped out and into the parking garage. "I've never told anyone that I named my car Henry let alone why I did it, and, honestly, I don't really talk about Henry." She grunted, irritated at the lack of clarity she'd caused in this conversation. "Henry, my ex, not Henry my car. I talk about my car all the time, but, you know, I like my car."

A dark eyebrow rose with some amusement as the two walked towards Maura's reserved parking spot. "I like my car a lot more than I liked Henry, that's for sure," she said half to herself.

"Yes, I imagine having one less-than-interested party could be very unsatisfying in a sexual relationsh-"

"But," Jane broke in hastily, "I just kind of … I embarrassed myself, okay? It's silly to name your car after a flamboyantly gay ex-boyfriend." She stopped, not sure where to go. Blinking as she glanced around, she said in a confused voice, "Where is your car and what is _that_ in your normal parking space?" She pointed, both eyebrows going up in question.

_That,_ an SUV that looked perfect for a seven-foot-tall bruiser of a man, went _vwip-vwip_ as Maura pressed a button on her key ring. "The Prius is a terrific car, but it didn't really have enough room for people of average height or above to sit comfortably in the back. Or the front, if your complaints were to be heeded. This is also a hybrid, and has room for things like luggage, coolers-"

Jane smirked. "Bodies."

"Theoretically, yes," agreed Maura as she stood on the running board to get in, "though I prefer letting my team transport those in the official van."

Jane got in without benefit of the step; her legs were longer. "Roomy." As Maura started the car and drove them out of the garage, she wondered aloud, "I know you bring a it when you go places, but did you really bought this for transporting luggage?"

It was Maura's turn to blush. "I merely said that that was one of the benefits."

Smirk still in place, Jane gave a nod of understanding. "So, bodies?"

"Live ones," Maura replied, growing pinker. It wasn't immediately obvious, given the dim lighting in the garage, but when they emerged into sunlight, Jane spotted the color in those cheeks. She waited, one brow raised, all but tapping her foot. "You and your brothers have long legs."

A shocked silence fell between them for a split second. "You bought this new car thinking about me and my family?" Jane blinked, taking in exactly what that implied. "You... you weren't going to leave me forever, then," she muttered, as she lowered her eyes to her hands where they rested in her lap. "I thought, after we talked and then you disappeared for another week, that you planned to go away and not come back this time. The whole reason I decided to camp out on your front porch until you would at least hear me out was because I thought that was what you were going to do to start with. I thought you were going to act like I was never in your life, like me and my family," she winced, "my family and I didn't matter to you anymore. Then, when you didn't really say anything to me after that day a couple of weeks ago, I was sort of afraid you were going to walk away anyway."

Not looking up but raising the volume of her volume ever so slightly, she said in a voice cracking with emotion, "I was really terrified you were going to disappear from my... _our _lives, Maura."

Maura lay her forearm over the center console to offer her hand to Jane. "I really thought about it," she said a few minutes later, when caught at a red light. "I hurt so much. But when I saw you just sitting on my porch and shivering, risking hypothermia just to talk to me, I knew you weren't going to give up. And then I thought, well, what if you did? And I couldn't even think clearly after I asked myself that question."

Her foot eased off the brake and onto the gas, and as she pulled forward, she continued. "After we talked that Friday, I spent the weekend trying over and over to think about it. I still couldn't think clearly, each time I thought about how I'd feel or what I would do if you gave up on me, or if I gave up on you. So, first thing Monday morning, I called up the hiring committee. I knew they were getting anxious about whether I'd come back, and when, so I told them to give me one more week. If I didn't call them by Friday, my leave of absence would turn into a final resignation, and I would take the job at BCU."

Jane's hand twitched before allowing Maura to take in her own. Finally glancing to the side, she said with a hint of uncertainty in her voice, "But you didn't."

"Tuesday afternoon, I called the precinct and said, never mind, I'll be there Monday. Wednesday, I went and bought this car. Because I didn't want to do without you, and I love your family, too." Her fingers tightened snugly for a moment, then released Jane's so that she could put the car in park right outside Jane's favorite lunch restaurant.

Changing the topic from the heaviness of a moment before as Jane pulled her hands together and attempted to joke, "You're letting me order a burger?"

"Anything you want," Maura promised, but paused as they approached the entrance together. "Just remember that if your health suffers because of your diet, and you die young, there will be people who will be extremely sad, and I'll be one of them."

Jane smiled as she stepped to the side and placed her hand on the door handle. "You know," her voice was a bit lighter, "I haven't been in here in almost a month?" She pulled the door opened and held it for Maura. "I, um, I haven't gotten out much recently."

"Yes, well, I haven't had much heart for some things, either," Maura replied as she went inside and stepped up to the order counter. "A turkey burger with extra tomato and lettuce, no cheese, and a side salad. No, make that a half-order of curly fries. And ice water. And whatever my friend would like." She did not step aside, just turned a little. It would be a bit crowded at the counter, but old habits died hard.

"Yeah," Jane stepped up, looking over the menu, "give me a chef's salad with fat free Italian on the side, and a diet coke." She looked to Maura, who had a look of disbelief on her face. "What? Do I have something on my face or a wrinkle in my suit or something?" She glanced down at her clothes. "I _know_ I don't have a wrinkle, Maur, I made sure to start buying those wrinkle free suits when you lef... um... when I had to replace a couple after I took down a couple of guys that thought that ripping off my clothes would keep me from collaring them." She smirked, clearly proud of the memory. "They were _so _wrong."

Maura's hand was already pressed to her chest, and she had that _I am touched_ look that usually made the taller woman call her gross, from the moment the lanky woman beside her spoke her lunch order. "Jane. That is so sweet. I'm proud of you. And the suits, too?" Her voice caught. It was an emotional day.

"That'll be seventeen sixty-one," said the scruffy blonde woman behind the counter. Maura pulled out her wallet and handed over a twenty, but her focus didn't deviate. "And how many perps did you take down in those old suits? They clearly didn't know with whom they were dealing. A little thing like torn clothes wouldn't distract _you_ from an arrest."

"Sweet?" Jane's eyebrow rose in confusion. "I'm not sure I want to know why you think me taking down a perp is sweet." Shaking her head, she took the tray containing their drinks, number for the table, and silverware.

"No, not the takedown. The salad," Maura corrected, but not too strenuously, as she tottered behind on her stilettos.

Jane shrugged. "Let's take that corner booth. It looks quiet over there." Leading the way, she set the tray down and slid into one side. "Yeah, those perps had no idea. The first guy grabbed the back of the collar of my favorite black jacket, and pulled up." She growled. "He completely ripped the seams of my arms and shoulders. Bastard."

Pulling things off the tray and placing the number where the workers could see it to deliver their food, she kept running through the list. "And my favorite gray suit, the one I used to wear with that blue button down you like so much? Guy grabbed the waist of my pants, and pulled up. Worst wedgie I think I've ever had, _and_ he ripped out my waistband." She grunted. "Sucked," she grumbled before taking a sip of her diet soda.

Likewise, Maura sipped her ice water in between contemplations. "Well, those are repairable, if the only rips were along seams. Then again, it does make a handy excuse for replacing outdated suits. I'll be excited to see the new ones." Her voice was fond, and she was smiling. Things weren't perfect yet, but it looked like the beginning of... a beginning. "I'm glad you weren't seriously hurt on either occasion. You take a lot of risks with your personal safety - salad aside - and it's always a relief when the risks pay off without an injury on your part. Oh, thank you," she added in the direction of the server, bringing their food

"I don't know if it was 'without injury'. I really loved that black suit." Jane speared a few pieces of salad and dipped them into the dressing. "But, for the record, I _am_ wearing one of those new suits right now. The tailor said it was a nice suit." She shrugged, adding just before she took the bite of salad, "I thought it was good suit. Hard to tell when no one's around to tell me how unfashionable it is." She winked as she chewed.

Maura's eyes opened wider as she realized, "Oh, my goodness, I didn't even notice! Well, stand up, let me look!" Hesitation on Jane's part met with disbelief on Maura's. "Well? Come on, show me the suit."

"Really, Maura?" Jane asked, but she already knew the answer. With an embarrassed look around, she stood up, trying to be discreet as she turned around.

By the time she'd completed her moderately paced spin, Maura's expression had changed to one of frank approval. "Jane, you're right, that is a gorgeous suit, and it looks like six hundred dollars on you."

"That's not how you say that," Jane informed her as she sat back down, "It's _you look like a million bucks._ And thanks."

Maura nodded patiently. "Yes, but that suit very likely didn't cost you more than two hundred fifty dollars-"

"One seventy-five." Jane corrected, not bothering to look up from her food. "There was a sale."

"-and even with tailoring, it couldn't have come to more than three hundred. Well, let's say two twenty-five, now that I know about the thirty percent off sale-"

The dark haired brunette snorted. "How the hell do you do that?"

"But then you put it on," Maura concluded with an air of triumphant finality, "and it's _at least_ twice as nice as it otherwise would have been. As I believe I've mentioned in the past, Jane, you've got the sort of figure that designers dream about when they're designing their clothing lines."

"I'm no model, Maura." The detective frowned as she looked down at her salad, eyes glancing quickly to her hands and then back to her plate. "Too many scars for that." Almost in a mumble, she added, "No one wants to look at that."

"I wouldn't say no one," Maura murmured before taking a healthy bite of her burger.

Clearing her throat and quickly moving on, Jane said in a louder voice, "Anyway, I think this case is going go be an easy one. If... if you don't have anything to do later," she chewed at her bottom lip for a moment. "Um... I think Jo misses you." A blush crawling up her neck as she moved a bite of salad to her mouth, she added quickly, "But I don't think she misses Ma yet." Before she could say anything else to add to the rising color on her cheeks, Jane quickly shoved the bite of salad into her mouth.

Maura's head tilted and her expression grew introspective, but she did not reply until after she'd taken and finished two more impressively large bites from her turkey burger and was swirling a curly fry around in the little cup of ketchup. "That means you don't want to come over this evening, but you'd be amenable to a visit from me?" she deduced from the clues at hand. Not an assumption. She'd argue that with her dying breath. "Because I think I would like to do that, if that's the case. Perhaps with dinner. Salad for me, perhaps mu shu beef for you? I know you like the little pancakes."

"You have my key." Jane glanced at her watch and made a face. "We should probably go." Sliding from the booth, a true Rizzoli smirk shone for the briefest of moments before she asked in a faux innocent tone, "Can I drive back?"

Maura dabbed her lips with the paper napkin, folded it nicely, and stood. She was smiling. Perhaps the reminder that she had, and was still permitted to use, her key was what made her say, "Okay, but drive the speed limit. And don't alter my radio settings."

"Thank you, Chris Tucker."

"Who?"

* * *

******_Chapter title taken from a song by Bob Haggart with lyrics by Johnny Burke._**

**Please let us know what you think by reviewing.**


	4. I Thought About You

**This is a less angsty chapter of a story featuring both friendship and romance between the two main characters, both of whom are women. If that's not your particular brand of vodka, feel free to abstain from reading. AdmHawthorne and I write stories to please ourselves and those who share our tastes. If you don't, no one is forcing you to stay here and keep reading.**_**  
**_

**For those still interested, welcome. :) Yes, we know you're not all lesbians, nor even all women. That's cool. We're flattered that you like our work, whatever your flavor.**

* * *

**Chapter 4: I Thought About You**

* * *

The case was as textbook as any the detectives had seen in months, and it was easily closed, the suspect even easier to pull a quick confession from once she saw the video, and the paperwork annoyingly long to finish.

Jane finally made her way from the station an hour after normal business hours, and, as she forced herself up the stairs, she mentally complained about the fact that Jo wasn't a cat. She really hated these days when she had to walk the little dog after coming in from a long day on the job.

But, when she opened the door and the tiny furball greeted her with a yelp hello and a tail wag, she couldn't help but smile.

"Cut me some slack today," she pleaded as she bent over to clip the leash on. "It was a long day, so, you know, if you do your thing kind of quick, I promise to give you a belly scratch when we settle tonight."

As if she understood, Jo was quick to do her business, and, while Jane waited, she thought about her day. Things had been strange, but it hadn't been bad. There were even times that felt normal, like it used to be. Hope shone in everything that had occurred today, and it gave rise to the notion that Maura might really forgive her, which was a relief. Jane missed the honey brunette more than she could ever remember missing anyone, and that empty feeling while Maura had been gone was unsettling to the the normally fiercely independent detective.

Jo pulled on her leash, anxious to go back in for promised tummy rubs, and Jane was obliged to follow her. In short time, Jo's owner was clean, changed for the evening, and seated on the sofa with PBS on, a glass of water on a coaster on the coffee table, and a very happy little dog in her lap.

"You are the most spoiled dog I think I've ever known," Jane mused as she scratched the offered tummy before her. "I blame your granny." Jo, for her part, simply enjoyed the attention. Laying on her owner's lap, tummy up, she did little more than give a contented snort.

That tender mother-and-puppy moment lasted for all of three minutes before Jo's furry head lifted, ears perked. She let out a little squeak, springing off Jane's lap and to the door, where she yipped and danced around in circles. Just as she was rearing back to give a full-throated, impressive YAP, one could hear light clicks, growing nearer and nearer, coming up the stairsteps outside. Then the doorbell rang. Jo went berzerk.

Jane couldn't help but smile. Jo only acted that way for one person. The sound of her bare feet padding across the room was covered over by the little dog's excited chattering, and she had to step carefully lest she step on the excited furball. She opened the door, smile still in place, and stepped aside to allow the object of Jo's excitement to walk into the apartment.

"I didn't know whether you'd want your mu shu beef from the Happy Panda or the Golden Temple or the Middle Kingdom, but I went with Golden Temple because they have the little almond cookies that you like so much," Maura rushed all in one breath, holding up a large bag. Then she gestured with the smaller bag in the other hand. "But I did know what Jo Friday would want. Hi, sweetie! Oh, I missed you too."

She entered, shaking the doggie bag. "Guess who gets a treat tonight? I got you a tin of Caesar and... _aaaaaand..._" she drawled out, smiling at the dog who never failed to make her feel both welcome and worshipped, "some good little girl gets Turky Jurky! That's right, it's you!" Perhaps a little overboard, but then, she hadn't been able to truly express anything like open, honest affection in Jane's presence for so long that it must have been a relief to get to do it now, even if only for a small canine.

"She really does likes you better than me," Jane said as she closed and locked the door. "But I thought I had her a couple of seconds ago. You know, she'll do just about anything for a good tummy rub or head scratch." Squatting down to the jumping, yapping, excited pup, she stretched out, careful to avoid Maura's legs around which the dog was bouncing, and scratched Jo's head.

Jo stopped barking and dancing and immediately rolled onto her side to demand tummy rubbing. "Can't blame her, though," Jane said absently as she obliged. "I would, too."

"Oh, would you like some Turky Jurky too?" Maura asked with a bright, open smile: her version of deadpan humor.

Jane chuckled as she looked up at the honey brunette looking down at her. "You want help with those bags now that I've calmed the beast?"

"Yes, please. Plates? If you'll plate, I'll go back to the car for the beer."

Jane's eyes grew wide in surprise. "Really? I get beer? I must have done something awesome, or you're buttering me up." She held a hand up as she stood. "No, don't tell me. I'm just going to enjoy you encouraging my bad habits."

Maura chuckled, nervous now that her attention was redirected towards the taller and less furry of the two Rizzoli females, and set down the bags on the countertop. "Be right back."

True to her word, barely a minute later she had returned, carrying a six-pack of the Tsingtao beer that had become their habit when eating Chinese food, and a third bag marked in what looked like Chinese script. "This one's mine," explained the smaller woman as she re-entered. "I know I was going to order salad, but the chicken lo mein sounded so good." Hesitation entered her facial expression as she set it down next to the other bag and removed the little white box. Was it too soon to offer... "You're welcome to some of it, if you'd like."

As she washed her hands at the sink, Jane gave a shrug. "Maybe. I'm not a huge fan of lo mein." She turned, drying her hands on the towel she kept for the purpose before tossing it back onto the counter. "But you normally have good taste, so maybe yes?" She glanced back at the counter, eyes falling to the crumpled towel. With a sigh, she turned back around, folded it, and placed it back in its normal place. "I think living with Ma has made me cleaner or more OCD or something."

"It does look very organized," Maura allowed, "but you were always tidy. Except during that dreadful time last spring and summer." That was all she would say about the shooting that had laid Jane up, made her feel powerless, and resulted in mess and boxes from the Home Shopping Network.

Jane shook her head as she walked to the fridge and pulled two mugs from the freezer. "Bought these a couple of weeks ago. I thought the frosty mug thing was kind of cool. You want one, right?" She held one of the chilled and frosting mugs up.

"I'd love one," Maura replied, accepting the handle delicately so as not to warm the rest of the mug with her hands. "Thank you. And how thoughtful of you to keep them chilled. You surprise me, Jane." It sounded like a compliment, and the expression she wore as she gazed around the apartment, looking for changes, bore out the notion. "Is that a new side table? Oh, no, wait, I remember it. You had it in your bedroom, on my si..." Abruptly she cleared her throat, sipped her beer, and gave a delicate little cough with the excuse of the foam.

A guilty look crossed Jane's face as she glanced down to the beer she had just poured. "Yeah, well, I've been sleeping on the couch because I gave Ma the bed, and," she looked up again to meet Maura's eyes, "I wanted your... _that_ table beside me. I just haven't been able to... well, I mean, I didn't think there'd ever be a reason to think that... damn it."

With a grunt of frustration, the detective pulled out a coaster from the stack on her counter, set the beer down on it, and walked over to the table. Moving the light from the table and to the floor, Jane picked up the table in one swift motion. "Do me a favor and open my bedroom door, will you? This damned thing is heavier than it looks."

Though she took note of the disclaimer that the table was heavy, coupled with the ease of lifting, Maura did scurry to open the bedroom door as requested, holding it open so that Jane could muscle the small but dense table into the inner sanctum. "It doesn't look that heavy, the way you're carrying it," Maura idly remarked, leaning back against the door, knob still in the hand behind her hip. Perhaps there was a trace of amusement in her voice, however, as she noted, "But yes, I'm impressed that you lifted the table so easily."

"Thanks, but I wasn't really going for impress-the-bff points here. It really _is_ heavy." Jane gave a little grunt of satisfaction as she set it down by the side of the bed on which she seldom slept. "Besides, there's a reason to put this back now."

"What's that?" Maura wondered, before memory informed her. "Oh, of course. Because you're sleeping in here now, and you need a place to set your water glass and your book."

"Yeah," giving a sigh and running her hands through her hair, Jane tried not to sound too deflated. "Or, you know, if you ever… stuff... yeah, that's right. I'm back alone in here again. Come on, our food is getting cold." Not bothering to let the doctor say anything more, Jane brushed passed and back into the kitchen.

Maura's eyes closed as Jane passed her by. She'd gone almost ten minutes without feeling bad. It was a record unmatched in the last month. Things were looking up.

* * *

Their plates were empty and pushed an inch or two back from the edge of the coffee table, indicating both women were satisfied. Maura still had a few swallows left in her single one beer. Jane was only halfway through her second, but neither seemed particularly inclined to take more. The rest would wait for the next time they had Chinese.

Jo Friday lay, belly-up, on the couch between them, getting belly rubs any time either woman didn't know what to do with herself and needed to shift focus for a moment. Walk, dinner, treat, and attention: it was her idea of the perfect ladies' evening in.

"Well, naturally, I couldn't wait to get out of that job interview," Maura concluded the story she'd been telling, giggling with residual embarrassment at having had to be in the situation, let alone at having to describe it. There was still awkwardness, but she was doing a good job of soldiering on anyway, making a concerted effort at re-establishing ease. "But on the plus side, I did realize that Professor Flatulence was the person I'd be replacing, so at least I wouldn't have to deal with him once I accepted the position."

"I don't know how you managed to not gag. I mean, those offices are pretty small, and, just, ew," Jane made a face. "Anyway, I'm glad you came back. I can't imagine you spending all your time in a stuffy college campus being all stodgy and not doing anything but talking about studies and reports and stuff all day long. No, wait, yes I can." She smirked. "I'm glad you came back anyway. Pike gets on my last nerve. He's a pompous ass, and he's not half as good as you are."

"I would have liked the work," Maura protested, "and Dr. Pike really isn't all that bad, if he can be reminded to check everything that should be checked. But I missed... my work at the precinct. The atmosphere, and the feeling that I was doing something _directly_ about the problems I see in the world." _And you,_ she did not add. But then, it wasn't really necessary. Her face was open as a book. Awkward, tense, annoyingly distant as they were, at least it was fairly clear that she didn't want to be those things.

Reaching down, Jane gave Jo a belly scratch before adding, "It's getting late, Maur. I can clean this up, and tomorrow is probably going to be a long day. I heard a rumor that Cavanaugh wants to hold a staff meeting in the morning, and you know those things take forever." She stood up, picking up plates. "Unless you want to stay. I mean, you can stay. You're always welcome to stay." She winced, shaking her head at herself as she moved to the kitchen, dirty dishes in hand.

Unwilling to let Jane act as sole server, Maura also stood, picking up bottles and white take-out containers. Following along to deposite empties into garbage or recycling, she paused, one hand holding the handles of three still-full take-out boxes, the other on a bottle as she emptied it into the sink.

Should she? She'd had a beer, the very one in her hand. Driving might not be safe. On the other hand, she'd had it over an hour ago, and had had it with food, so she was well clear of intoxication.

On the other hand, she had her overnight bag in the car, as she'd left it the last time she had been here.

On the other hand, would she want Jane to realize that she'd stayed in the habit of being ready to stay out all night?

On the other hand, she _missed_ Jane.

On the other hand, they were awkward. She felt clumsy and maladroit now, not easily relaxed, as she relearned how to interact with her best friend. She doubted she would fall asleep, striving not to shift too often and disturb Jane's rest, not to make a sound, not to keep her awake with questions and conversation, lest yet again they be the last civil words spoken to one another before the remains of anger grew again and made her push away reconciliation.

On the other hand...

"I'm running out of hands," Maura murmured, realizing that she still stood there, letting the last drop of beer cling to the mouth of the bottle. It would not fall. "I think I'm okay to drive home," she finally replied, setting down the bottles and boxes and taking a step back. "And I think I should. Drive home. But," she lay her hand on the counter near Jane's, "thank you. For the offer, and for today."

Seeming to understand, Jane only nodded. "You're always welcome here, Maur. I mean that. Listen," she turned around and stepped closer, almost hugging the doctor, but stopping herself before she made the full motion. "Let me know you got home safe_ly_. Okay?"

Maura caught herself swaying forward, and steeled herself to sway right back, arms unmoving, in an almost perfect reflection of Jane's motion. "I'll text. A-and you text, too, once you and Jo have your final walk tonight." That wasn't usual, even at their closest. Therefore, it could only be a deliberately offered show of concern. "I'll see you in the morning."

Jane nodded again and walked her friend to the door. She closed it behind her, leaning against it before sliding down to sit on the floor. Jo happily bounded over to plop down in her owner's lap, and her owner mindfully scratched the little dog's head. "At least she's stopped looking at me like I'm the worst person in the world. It's a start, right girl?" She glanced down to the scruffy dog, who only wiggled happily in her lap. "I wonder how long it will be before it's okay to give her a hug? I miss touching her... _hugging_ her. I miss hugging her."

She sighed, scooping up the dog and walking back to the sofa. "We'll take our walk in a few, okay? I think I need to think about a couple of things first."

* * *

Outside, Maura turned on her car immediately. But it was another good five minutes before she pulled away from the curb.

She spent the time breathing in controlled depth and speed, exactly as shown in yoga class.

_In through the nose. _So close, she'd been so close to feeling that she was back inside her own body, that Jane was her best friend and she was Jane's, that nothing could touch them, that they stood back to back. In the end, though, they weren't smooth. Like the ridges marking where the temporal bone met the parietal and the frontal, they had fused together imperfectly, leaving patchwork marks to show that, after all, they were not all of a piece.

_Out through the mouth._ Maura started the car and drove away, letting sense memory be her navigator and instinct be her gauge for the presence of movement from pedestrians and cars, and for the signs ordering her to stop, alter her speed, or proceed with caution. She didn't want to be driving home. She wanted to stay with Jane. Stay and talk, finish making up, fight if they had to do it in order to work out the rest of what was keeping them at arm's length.

_In through the nose._ The two women had worked well together that day. They'd shared two meals. She'd gotten to see Jo Friday, who, poor beast, must have had no idea why Maura had stopped coming to see her. Did she have feelings about that? Did she wonder where Maura was, why there were no more expensive treats, why she hadn't come over to walk Jo during the days when Jane was out on a case? Who had come to walk her then? Was she lonely? Did she mourn, as her human caregiver did, as Maura did? "God, children of divorce must go through hell," she murmured aloud at the last stop sign before reaching her own home, and did not find it incongruous that she had equated close friendship to marriage. Jo, after all, wouldn't really know the difference. There was someone in her little life, and then that someone had gone. Would she trust that Maura would stay around this time?

_Out through the mouth._ Maura turned off the car and went inside through the garage entrance, turning on light after light to dispel the darkness and convince herself that the house was not empty. Bass did not rush to the door to greet her, making noise and leaping. Aside from the fact that he couldn't, even if he were to be so inclined, he had begun his usual seven- to eight-month hibernation, and was camped out with his heat lamp in the terrarium she had built for him. Maura doubted that Bass missed Jane. Maura doubted that Bass would miss her. She had affection for him, but other than recognizing her as the entity that supplied him with food and occasionally subjected him to the indignities of the veterinarian, did he really know who she was? Her laughter, tears, annoyance, anger, love, and need for comfort, over the years of their acquaintance, had never had an effect on Bass. He knew warmth and cold, food and hunger, water and thirst, noise and quiet. She was, in all likelihood, irrelevant to him.

_In through the nose._ Maura texted Jane: **I'm home and I'm safe. Good night, Jane.**_ Out through the mouth._

_In through the nose._ Meditative breathing had calmed Maura fairly well, she mused in the shower and while drying her hair afterward. The light brown, accented with autumnal highlights and lowlights of varying shades of muted reds, fell into a disarray that she would tame in the morning, perhaps drawing it completely straight with a flat iron. Or, well, no. Maybe there had been enough of that. She might want to add a little bounce this time. Maybe it would cheer her up. Make her look happy. Maybe if she looked happy, she would smile more. Studies had shown that making a facial expression actually led to the creation of the associated emotion. Maura smiled in the mirror, adjusting the set of features until they looked genuine, and assessed the effect on her feelings. Hm. Maybe a bit. She turned away from the mirror and thought of Jane, and willed her features to form a countenance of compassion, gentleness. She practiced saying aloud, "I forgive you. I forgive you. I forgive you."

_In through the nose. And hold._

* * *

Jane checked her messages, noted Maura was home safe, and shot off a quick text message in return stating that she was back from her evening constitutional with Jo and had to laugh at herself for actually using the word constitutional in her text.

"I just can't help myself, Jo," she said as she slid down into her side of the bed. "I like trying to make her smile. It's even better if she laughs. Maybe I'll get lucky and, if she smiles enough, I can get her to forgive me just a little faster. I think I heard someone say that smiling when you're unhappy makes you a little happier, or something. What do you think?" She patted the bed to call the little dog up from the foot.

Jo bounded up and settled next to Jane's side, giving a huff.

"Yeah, yeah, you're tired. I get it. You're getting old, Jo. Only old ladies go to bed at," Jane checked the clock, "Never mind. You have a point. It's nearly midnight."

Flipping off the light and settling down, she rolled over to look at the empty side of her bed. "I really wanted her stay," she said into the quiet. Jo gave a sniff. "What if she never stays again? What if this is as far as we get? What if we never fix it?" Jo pawed at her owner. "Okay, fine, you hate 'what if' scenarios, too. I swear you like Maura better."

Jane rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling for a little while, sleep the furthest thing from her mind. "I like her better, too." Frowning deeply, the detective closed her eyes and tried not to think about the honey brunette.

The attempt was futile. That night, she dreamed about Maura.

* * *

**__****_Chapter title taken from a song by Jimmy Van Heusen and lyrics by Johnny Mercer._**

******We look forward to hearing your thoughts on this chapter and the full fic, when you get a chance.**


	5. Sometimes I'm Happy

**This is still a story about both friendship and romance between two women. ****You've had a warning at the beginning of every chapter. ****No, there's no overt "lesbian content" in any of these first chapters, but I keep telling you, this story is going to resolve in a way you claim not to like.** If you're still reading, stop lying to yourself about how much you dislike stories featuring lesbians. You're fooling no one. 

* * *

_**Chapter 5: Sometimes I'm Happy**_

* * *

Tuesday dawned bleak and chill, but for the first time in a long time, Maura didn't care. She didn't want to spend this morning in the gym. Colder weather would come soon enough, but today she would defy the season and wrestle one last outdoor workout from its grasp. Hours before she was due at work, she slid into her running attire, stretched for a good twenty minutes, then hit the pavement, ponytail bouncing. Each step took her further away from the site of the last weeks' fits of anger and hurt; each drop of sweat took with it not only bodily toxins, but poisons of the mind as well, the things that kept her tethered to resentments she had not yet gotten entirely under her own control. She ran into the sunrise, welcoming the painful glare for the excuse of her watering eyes, ignored other morning joggers, though she took note of the ones who ran with dogs. Jane would be waking soon to walk Jo Friday, she thought absently, and while the moment brought with it the twinge of nervousness that it had usually brought, it also made her smile.

Rounding a corner, she found herself about a block behind a tall, thin, dark-haired woman, and sped her steps to keep pace. It was not Jane, she knew. Jane didn't own running attire like that, even if the woman hadn't been noticeably paler of skin and with narrower hips, but Maura found that following after this ersatz Jane-substitute provided its own metaphor. Jane had hurt her and then chased her; now she was chasing "Jane" instead, wishing to close the gap. The woman turned before Maura would have, though, and so Maura sped past that block.

Her stride lengthened as her muscles became ever more used to the morning chill, working harder, churning to propel her further and faster. Enough of this warm-up business, enough with taking it easy. She wanted to thrash, to feel thunder, to blur, to erase. Her breath came in sharp gasps, but it made Maura feel strong, knowing that she wasn't succumbing to the burning in her lungs and her legs. She was the boss of her body. It would do as she commanded.

She abandoned regular sidewalks in favor of the scenic running trail, where other runners, joggers, walkers, rollerbladers, and the occasional bicyclist were doing what she was doing, chasing one thing and outrunning another. They were together in their solitude. It felt good to be at common purpose with humanity. Maura's heart kept rapid time, urging her feet to keep up, and they did.

When at last her body let her know that she needed to begin her cooldown, Maura took her all-out, ground-devouring race down to a respectable jog and turned around to go home again. The last mile or so saw a steady decrease in speed from jog to trot and finally, the last little bit was just a walk. She glanced down at her pedometer and found to her surprise that she'd run not quite twice as far as her usual; she had miscounted the trips around the jogging trail. No wonder she was soaked in sweat and all her muscles burned with the glow of good health.

Final stretching soothed her the rest of the way down, assured that she would not get cramps in her limbs later. With an explosive sigh, Maura completed her last, long bend-over as she picked up the paper and headed inside to wash away the exertion. She felt newborn, ready to face work and people again. Ready to be near Jane, without having to push or needle her, without having to keep reminding her that they weren't really okay, because maybe they could be.

Jane wasn't there.

She was testifying in court, after which she would return to the morgue to find Maura had left for a late lunch without telling anyone where she'd gone. Just as Maura hadn't known whether she ought to text Jane again so soon, Jane didn't know whether to text Maura to find out where she'd gone, and so they kept missing one another, right up until time to leave.

"Do you want to go out for a coffee or a drink or something?" Maura asked Jane, making sure to include Barry and Vince and Frankie in the invitation as well, so that there was less pressure on just Jane.

Jane's cellphone preempted whatever answer she might have given. "Looks like we've got a body. You coming?"

They worked easily, but quietly, with little socialization. One couldn't really joke as much over the body of a woman eight months pregnant. Still, it was nice to know that their work wasn't suffering for one another's presence. Maybe tomorrow would be better.

* * *

Sleep was for the weak, the very young, the very old, and anyone but someone named Jane Rizzoli. Of this fact, Jane was certain. The eight month pregnant woman had turned out to be a student at BCU, and the web the detectives were trying to unweave was more complicated than originally thought.

She had managed a couple of hours sleep between the time the body was brought into the morgue and the time she could go with Frost to question suspects, but that little sleep only seemed to make her more tired. It was more than her body crying out for rest, her mind was weary. Although she would never pull her focus from her case, she found her mind wandered to Maura during the expected downtimes.

With both of them completely occupied with solving the case, neither of them had time to occupy with fixing their friendship. Cases involving children were hard on both women. Usually, they would turn to each other for emotional support, but Jane wasn't sure she could do that with Maura just yet. Was it too soon to ask for that type of help? Would Maura welcome her or push her away? Did Maura need as much emotional support as Jane surprised herself in needing?

She wasn't sure, and the uncertainty was eating away at her.

The indecision was causing unexpected tension in the bullpen, and it was Korsak who finally made the choice for Jane shortly after what should have been lunch.

"Jane, take a break. You've been at this for awhile." He stepped up to her desk and pulled the pencil from her hand.

"Hey! I was using that," she tried to snap back, but she only managed to sound tired.

He grunted at her. "Yeah, well, now you're not. Go take a break, and take Maura with you. You two haven't eaten yet."

"How would you know?" Despite her protest, Jane was already pulling her suit jacket on. "You been down there to see her?"

"Nope, but we've been emailing all morning. Go," he pointed to the door. "and bring me back something with chocolate in it."

"Fine," she said with an eyeroll for good measure.

As she stepped into the morgue, she mentally prepared herself for the worst in case Maura had a change of heart over the past couple of days. She found the doctor bent over her desk in her office.

"Hey," she said quietly to get the other woman's attention. "Korsak says we need to take a break, go find something to eat, and bring him back some chocolate." A weak smile on her face, she timidly asked, "You game?"

The feeling of relief was indescribable as Maura returned her smile, nodded her head in the affirmative, and reached down to pull her purse from the bottom drawer of her desk. Maura hadn't changed her mind. Suddenly, Jane's wary mind was a little less so.

* * *

"I'm sorry," Maura said for the fourth time, losing patience, "but I can't tell you anything more until I get the results back from the tox screen."

"Come on!" Jane exploded, and with a wild gesture, accidentally knocking a file to the floor. Its papers went fluttering all around, causing Maura to frown and snap at her. Rather than quickly apologize and bend to pick up the papers herself, Jane stormed out, still irritated at Maura for refusing to give even a hint of something that _might_ have killed the pregnant college sophomore, to give them any idea of where to start looking.

Two steps back.

Still, Maura reflected, it could have been worse. For one, she always numbered the pages of her files, so while it was tedious, she could get them back in order. In fact, so could the janitor, if she cared to set the man to the task. It really was a low-brainer. _No-brainer,_ Jane would have corrected her. Maura would have smirked that people with no brains could not follow numerical sequences, and there would have been either a chuckle or a pretense at an impatient huff. That would have been nice.

For another thing, she decided much later in the day, the mini-fight showed that neither of them was walking on eggshells anymore. Not really. They weren't afraid of bursting bubbles, frightening away butterflies, or causing any offenses for which beheadings or breakups were the only recompense. "I guess it could be considered progress," she argued with herself _sotto voce_ as she removed autopsy tools from the sanitizing solution and put them away in their drawers, which she'd finally gotten back the way she wanted them.

"Glad you think so," came the gravelly voice from the doorway, as if Jane had been privy to her thought processes, which had been circling around the subject for at least an hour. "Sorry about the... the last time I was down here."

Maura sighed as she turned around, shaking her head to dismiss all charges from the day's prickliness. "It's okay. I didn't want to lead you in the wrong direction, and I'm glad I hesitated, but I understand why you wished I hadn't. You're looking for someone with access to medical-grade morphine diacetate. Heroin. I didn't find any of the compounds known to be used to dilute and resell on the streets, despite the paraphernalia that were found with the body. Also, the victim had an injury to her left hand that showed up in the X-ray, so she wouldn't have been able to tie the rubber tubing around her right arm that way. I'm ruling murder, and did you mention that her mother was a dentist who'd recently attended a convention in the UK? British physicians sometimes prescribe heroin as an analgesic or as a maintenance drug to treat addicts."

"Yeah, and thanks." Jane hesitated. "So, we're good?"

"Yes."

The brunette's voice was still subdued, her head still tilted at a lower angle than usual. "Want to grab dinner?"

Maura considered her options. "I'm a little bit tired, actually. I think I need to get out of my own head tonight."

Correctly, Jane interpreted, "You need space."

"Not from you, specifically," Maura hurried to explain. "I just... don't want to be around anyone I know right now, anyone who knows me. I need to either be alone, or surrounded by strangers. Do you know what I mean?"

Jane nodded, thought better of whatever she had been about to say, and left. It was just as well; Maura felt that dread again as she spied the apology in Jane's face, too large for just that little spell of irritability earlier. She was still apologizing for the larger matter. That had to stop. They had to get out from under it.

* * *

_**Chapter title taken from a song by Vincent Youmans with lyrics by Irving Caesar.**_

**We hope you've enjoyed the story so far. Better times are coming. Yes, this is a short chapter, but the stopping point was an appropriate one.**


	6. Satin Doll

**We hope that this chapter will begin to soothe those whose nerves were jumpy at the happenings in the previous chapter. This isn't the story's resolution, but it's basically your last chance to stop reading if you don't enjoy thinking of Rizzoli & Isles as potentially romantically involved. This is your final warning.**

* * *

**Chapter 6: Satin Doll**

* * *

Maura's discovery and reminder paid off. The victim's mother was in lockup by the middle of Friday afternoon, and, though the confession was difficult to pry from the stately looking woman, it did eventually come.

Jane was happy to have the week actually end on a Friday for a change. There were two reasons for this. Firstly, she'd managed to trick Frost into being on call over the weekend, and, second, she had tickets to a local jazz house where a friend of hers was playing a gig that night.

With two tickets burning a hole in her pocket, she had originally planned to ask her mother to join her. But, now that Maura was talking to her again, she was torn between asking her friend and asking her mother. If she asked her friend and Maura declined, Jane wasn't sure she'd be able to handle the rejection well. She found herself honestly frightened of the idea that Maura wouldn't want to spend time with her, which made her angry at herself for the odd weak spot she seemed to have acquired regarding the other woman.

If she didn't ask Maura, then she would never know if Maura would willing spend time away from both work and home with her again, and she wasn't sure she could handle wondering what Maura might have said had she actually asked.

Jane had no idea what to do. She paced in front of the morgue's double doors as she tried to decide. Should she ask? Should she not? Should she even bother to go? Maybe she should call her friend, tell him something came up, and go hide in her apartment for the rest of the weekend?

_No_, Jane shook her head, _I have to know_.

Taking in a calming breath, she opened the door, walked in, and headed straight for the Medical Examiner's office. As she walked, she ran a hand over her shirt and jacket, checking for wrinkles and making certain her clothes were in order. Before she stepped into the ME's office, she ran a hand through her hair, shaking the curls loose.

Walking in with a confident air she didn't actually possess, she set her jaw in a determined motion before addressing the small woman sitting at the desk. "Hey, do you have plans tonight?"

"No," Maura replied to Jane's surprise, not entirely cheerfully, but doing her best at it. "I've been focusing a lot on a paper that will be published, a collaborative work between myself and Dr. Marcus Hansen at the University of St. Andrews. It's a pleasure to work with such a brilliant mind," she enthused, as if that were the primary consideration; and maybe it was, at least originally. But the little mumble that came after told the story about the chief attraction now. "And, you know, it keeps me busy."

"Busy? Right," the detective ran a hand across the back of her neck. "Listen, if you don't have something you have to finish up writing tonight, I have a couple of tickets to that jazz place downtown. One of my friends plays the guitar and sings in a band, and he's got a gig down there tonight. If you can't, that's cool. I mean, you don't have to, but, you know, if you want to come with me," she glanced around the room, unable to keep eye contact as she admitted, "I'd really like it if you'd go with me." She looked back over to the honey brunette, an expression somewhere between pleading and apology written on her sharp features.

Maura didn't even have to think about it, really, but she did anyway, just in case there were perils, problems that she could avoid. Sure enough, that two-second reflection spelled it all out for her. It was, after all, fairly fresh in her mind. "On one condition. Don't do _that_ tonight." Her vague gesture took in Jane's face, full of regret and entreaty. "If we're going to go out, it's not going to be as a wronged person and a supplicant begging for mercy. We're going to go out as friends. Best friends."

She warmed to the instructions, taking them seriously. They were important, if the two of them were to re-establish their connection and truly make it out the other side of their rough patch. "You smile, Jane. You laugh, usually at me. You make fun of the way I talk and the things I eat and the fact that I don't understand all of what's happening. I tell you your outfit does nothing for you - well, I suppose that one's a little outdated, since you're wearing one of those new suits, but we'll come up with something. I'm sure there's ample material for me to work with. You push, and I push back." She gave the taller woman a gentle but firm shove at the shoulder. "You poke me, I pinch you," again Maura suited word to action, "and we don't worry about whether we're allowed to do it. Take the liberties, Jane, I mean it. Don't ask, and don't apologize. One night. If you can't do that, then I'm going straight home and get in the bubble bath and ignoring your calls till Monday."

"You know that never works," Jane said as she rubbed the place Maura had pinched. "I'll just use my key and sit on your bed until you come out of the bath. I've done it before." She gave something close to the grin she once gave all the time. "I'll pick you up in two hours, and, remember, this is a jazz club, not a night club. I'm going to wear a pair of jeans and a nice shirt, if that helps you decide what to wear."

She tilted her head one direction and then the other, letting her neck pop as her body visibly relaxed a bit. "Just so you know, the jeans and shirt are new, too. I'd hate for you to find new material based on my clothes. I'm going to make you work for it." She winked. "Good?"

"Good," Maura agreed, still serious, though her eyes held a suspicious twinkle. "See you at my place, and I'll try not to out-dress you. This time."

* * *

The jazz club was an intimate venue. Low lights gave atmosphere and small round tables that could comfortably hold two to three people at one time were scattered about the darkened room. A small stage was located in one corner with an even smaller bar in the back opposite corner.

As Jane and Maura walked in, a band was setting up. People of various ages and places in life milled about between tables and the bar. A few larger groups stood about the walls talking and laughing amongst themselves. "I'm glad you told me you were wearing jeans, Jane," Maura murmured as Jane guided her. "I think it enabled me to properly gauge the expectations of the crowd and not stand out too much." She was a bit mistaken on the latter point, but perhaps could be forgiven based on the accuracy of the former. After all, a cigarette skirt and a satin blouse with a little ruffle _were_ appropriate for jazz. The jazz of seventy years ago, at least.

Jane led Maura through the thin crowd and toward the front of the stage. She kept the smaller woman close to her, not wanting any of the wandering eyes she had seen turn into unwanted company. Once they made it to the stage, Jane moved her left hand from Maura's elbow to the small of her back as she called out to one of the men on stage.

"Yo, Charlie, you going to set us up, or what?"

A balding, slightly dumpy and slightly overweight man looked up from the speaker he was adjusting and smiled. "Jane! Bout time you showed your ugly mug. I was about to think you were going to stand me up." With a grunt and some effort, he stood up and jumped down from the small stage to shake the detective's hand. "Glad you could make it. Who's your friend?"

"Hey, I _told_ you'd I'd be here if Boston decided not to kill anyone before I could get out of working this weekend. Jeez, Charlie, you act like I stand you up all the time." She rolled eyes but laughed. "This," she said as she turned a bit more to the woman whose back she still had her hand on, "is Doctor Maura Isles. Maura, this is Professor Charles Howard. He teaches jazz at BCU."

"Doctor Isles," the short man offered his hand. "It's nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

"You have?" Maura asked, half to Jane, taking the handshake with a smile and then resettling right back in her position by the taller woman's side. "I'm almost embarrassed to admit that she's kept you a secret from me, then. But what a wonderful surprise. I didn't realize, when Jane said she had a friend with the band, that she had such a renowned friend. I've heard you perform at the Beantown Jazz Festival. You were the highlight of that instrumental set. And you," she mentioned, giving Jane's arm a swat as she'd all but promised earlier, "why didn't you tell me you knew Professor Howard, or that you even liked jazz?"

"I think you're in trouble, Jane." Charlie grinned.

Jane shrugged. "Probably, but that's nothing new." Ignoring his chuckle, she looked to the woman beside her. "It's not like we talk about our musical choices much. Besides, I don't normally listen to jazz, but I ran into Charlie about three months ago, and he's been trying to pull me in."

"Trying? I'd say I'm _doing_. You're here, aren't you?" His grin broadened. "One of these days I'm going to get you to learn to play." His glance moved quickly to his guitar before turning back to the women. "I'm honored you like my music, Doctor Isles. I'm sorry I didn't notice you in the crowd at the festival." He winked. Jane cleared her throat and gave him a hard look. He quickly stopped making his best flirty face. "Anyway, I have a table reserved for you, Jane. I have to get back up there and finish setting up." He shook both of their hands again. "You two enjoy the show!" With that, he turned and, with some effort, made his way back up on stage.

"So," Jane said, turning her head to look at the honey brunette, "you want something to drink?" She was hoping Maura hadn't caught the part about the guitar. With any luck, that conversation could be avoided for the next few hours or forever, whichever.

With a nod, Maura expressed a willingness to try whatever Jane was having. "In the spirit," she explained, "of getting the full experience. And the next round is on me." With that, she took a seat exactly where the guitar professor had indicated, and smiled up, leaving the drink fetching to Jane. Standard, in other words. Whoever got the other one to fetch drinks won. Not that either of them acknowledged, or probably even realized, that there was winning to be done. "I'll save our seats," she added in a clever touch, making it sound like she was also performing a service.

Shrugging, Jane turned to walk to the bar. Though hesitant to leave Maura alone, she was trying to comply with the rules laid out for her earlier. She _was not_ going to treat her friend as anything other than her friend, and that meant she was going after the drinks.

* * *

The small bar was crowded with people lined up to fetch something before the show began. Their murmurs could be heard despite the music playing over the speakers in the background, and Jane tried not to overhear the snippets of conversation around her. She really had no interest in who was fighting with whom, where the other bands for the night would be playing next, or what two chicks they were going to try to pick up tonight...

Her ears zeroed in. _What two chicks?_ Finely tuned detective eyes searched the line of people in front of her as equally finely tuned detective ears listened harder to the conversation.

A light tenor voice with just a hint of slur declared, "Nah, man, I'm _telling _you those two chicks are here alone. I say we _totally_ go over there and say hi once the brunette gets her drink."

"Maybe we should buy her drink for her? You know," an equally slurred baritone responded, "get us an in?"

Jane realized they were behind her. Growling, she moved up a bit and hoped the bartender would hurry up with people ahead of her. She didn't like where the conversation behind her was going, and she suddenly had the urge to be next to Maura, just in case. Grant it, she wasn't certain what the 'just in case' was or why she felt the need to be there, but her gut said she needed to be there, and she trusted her intestines. She didn't care what Maura said about them only being organs.

"God, the rack on the chick at the table is a-freaking-mazing," the tenor continued on, unaware that anyone could hear him, or, rather, unaware of how loudly he was talking.

"I know, dude," came the over enthusiastic response from the baritone. "But her friend, I mean, come on! Just _look _at her. I bet she's a great lay."

It took everything Jane had not to turn around, but she somehow managed. She didn't want to cause a scene, embarrass Maura, or make Charlie wish he'd never invited her. So, instead of turning around, she stepped up to the bar and ordered two vodka sours, paid the bartender, and walked past the group that had been behind her.

Glancing over, ears perked to listen, she managed to find the tenor, a sandy haired man wearing the tackiest Hawaiian button down shirt she had ever seen, and the baritone, a tall man with a shaved head and cheap suit. Jane didn't even try to keep the snort of disgust from rolling out.

_Not in a million years_.

Arriving at their table, she smiled brightly down at her friend, handed over the drink, and plopped down right beside her. "Vodka sours," she answered before the question could be asked. "Also, there are two drunk guys that are thinking about coming over here to hit on us. One thinks you have an," she made air quotes, "a-freaking-mazing rack' and the other one thinks I would be," again with the air quotes, "a great lay'. I'm thinking that, if they come over here, I may have to shoot them."

Not quite discreetly enough to suit Jane, Maura glanced down at said rack, then looked up smiling. "You can't fault their taste," she agreed cheerfully as she took up her drink. "I do kind of feel that they're my nicest feature, or rather, my most obvious one. Don't shoot them just for noticing, okay? It's a natural thing that they should. Secondary sexual characteristics always draw attention when someone is looking for a mate." The band, now that their setup was just right, set about with the cheerful cacophony of tuning their instruments.

Deftly her fingers plucked the stir stick from her drink and, in what was probably an effort to cause one or both of those men heart problems, used it to drop a taste of it on her tongue before continuing on. "That is, a sexual partner, not a life partner. Life partners tend to look for the less obvious. But the drunk men can't help themselves. Not only are they living with their usual hormones, but they're inebriated, which lessens their inhibitions and removes at least some layers of filtering, so they're more likely to say what they're thinking. Experience teaches me that that's really not something that can be controlled. Of course, I can't speak directly to their other supposition, but-"

"I really don't want to deal with a couple of drunk idiots tonight, Maura." Jane rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I just want to spend some time with you, enjoy Charlie's band, and, maybe, go out for nachos at that all night cafe after." She took a quick sip of her drink. "The last thing I want to do is deal with a couple of guys who just want to get into my pants, or your pants for that matter. We don't need dates tonight, and," she spat out, clearly getting more irritated by the moment, "...crap, here they come. That's it, I'm staking claim so they'll leave us alone."

Without so much as asking permission, Jane scooted closer to Maura and laid her arm across the back of the other woman's chair just as the two men came up to their table. Gratifyingly, the smaller woman leaned in.

"Ladies," the sandy haired tenor said with as much clarity as he could given his current state of inebriation, "mind if we join you?"

"Yeah, we do," Jane answered, eyes narrowing.

"You two look like you could use some company," the one in the cheap suit commented as they pulled up chairs and sat down, uninvited.

"We have company," the detective countered, motioning with her free hand between herself and the honey brunette. "We have each other. You two can get lost."

Ever the polite one, Maura added, "But thank you for the offer, however misplaced."

The Hawaiian shirt clad tenor would not be so easily swayed. "Aw, come on," he leered at Maura, not bothering to hide it when his eyes again fell to her chest, "Why do you have to be like that?"

"Hey!" Jane pointed at him with her free hand as her other went from the back of the chair to around Maura, pulling her as close as she could given how they were seated in their chairs, "Not yours to oogle, buddy."

Maura turned inward, using the angle of her body to shield her cleavage from view. She was perfectly capable of dismissing the tipsy pair of men on her own, and would not have needed to be quite as confrontational about the matter. Jane had caught her by surprise, however, and as she had taken charge in the pose of an alpha, no doubt she was spoiling for a clash. Which, of course, she would win. There was no way Maura would let herself get in the way of her best friend's need to dominate those two strangers. Besides, it was kind of entertaining.

The two women's knees knocked uncomfortably against one another as Jane tugged and Maura turned, so Maura's own legs solved the problem by lifting and resting atop Jane's lap. She didn't want to come home with a bruised knee; she'd have to wear longer skirts or dresses for a week. As an associated benefit, it would keep Jane from hopping up and taking on a threatening posture. As amusing as it could be, at this time Maura had little interest in watching the chest beating, bellowing, and antler tangling.

Fortunately, Jane had already provided her with a means to address the matter verbally, while at the same time lending credence to the implication her best friend had put forth. Her arm slipped under Jane's and around her back to rest upon the other woman's opposite hip. "Baby, it's okay," she murmured in low tones near Jane's ear, just enough to be overheard by their would-be suitors. "I don't mind if other people look, as long as they don't touch."

"Yeah, but-" Jane began, still a bit hot under the collar. "Maura, he has _no right _to..."

"Shhh." One finger traced over Jane's jawline, then rested briefly in the cleft in her chin. "Where am I sleeping tonight? Hmm, baby?" That, Maura felt, was a stroke of above-average intelligence. (Genius took a little more work and finesse, to her way of thinking.) First, it established the ruse for good and all, for the sake of the men still staring at them. Second, it did not require her to actually lie. And finally, it was a legitimate question. Jane had picked her up, which meant that she didn't have her overnight bag, which stayed in the trunk of her own car, and the answer would tell her if she needed to remind Jane later of that fact.

"You had better be going home with me," Jane replied without thought, eyes still shooting daggers at the men across from them. "And you two," she again pointed at the men, "can still get lost."

"Of course you'd be lesbians," the baritone groaned as he stood up. "The pretty ones are _always_ lesbians." He looked down at his friend. "Come on, Jack, let's go."

"No," the seated man shook his head, "I don't believe it. You two are just trying to play us. Come on, you don't have to fake being a couple. It's cool if _you_," he looked directly at Jane, "want me all to yourself."

The detective's face went from annoyed to icy cold. "Really?"

"Yeah, sure," he said, glancing up to his friend who was still trying to get him to leave. "I can tell. You _totally_ have the hots for me. You two are _way_ too good looking to be lesbians. You can't fool me."

Maura frowned. "That is not a compliment, and it's insulting to lesbians, and beauty comes in _many_ different types."

Maura's legs across her lap were the only thing keeping Jane from jumping out of her chair and assaulting the man still lazily seated across from them. Instead of standing, she moved her free hand to take hold of Maura's, bringing it to her lips for a kiss as she thought about what to say next. As she brought their hands back down, her eyes narrowed. "I'm not interested in being your beard, dude."

"My what?" Jack was clearly confused.

"Just because you and your boyfriend are looking for a couple of women to hang around so you don't look like a couple doesn't mean me and my girlfriend are interested in helping you out. We're Family, but that doesn't mean I have to support you living a lie." Jane smirked.

"Whoa," he stood, holding his hands up. "That's not... no, no way." He looked at his friend, who only shrugged. "Man, fine. You two enjoy each other. If you change your mind, we'll be around."

"Not going to happen," Jane said in a sickeningly sweet voice. "Bye now." She smirked as she watched them walk away. "And don't let the door hit you on the way out."

With a little sigh of relief, Maura dropped her overtly sensual facial expression and simply smiled, giving a little squeeze around Jane's waist. "Thank you. Even though I could have dealt with that myself, I appreciate it." Her legs didn't move from their comfortable drape across the other woman's, though she did reach for her drink once more. "Feel better now that you got your alpha-yayas out?"

Jane blinked. "My what?"

The smaller woman's shoulder, singular, lifted in elegant, European shrug. "You seemed to want to butt heads. You're not the type who would start a bar fight, thank goodness, but I could tell you needed to assert dominance over our two male annoyances, rather than just make them uninterested or say no in a less confrontational way. You were acting like a pack alpha who wanted to save all the..."

Maura broke off, using the excuse of a sip of drink to give herself a moment to reword her initial thought. "...save all the pack females from outside aggression. You had to get your yayas out. Isn't that the expression? Your adrenaline was running high, and you had to dispel it somehow. I hope it worked."

Narrowing her eyes, the lanky brunette gave a snort of disapproval. "I think you've been watching too much Animal Planet with Bass." Shaking her head, she took a sip of her own drink before glancing down at her lap. "You going to move your legs?"

"They might still be watching," explained the honey-haired woman. "If I move off of you right away, they'll know it was just a subterfuge. Besides, you're really comfortable, and it feels good."

"Fine," Jane shifted to a more comfortable position. "But don't think this means we're going steady," she said with a chuckle before taking another sip of her drink as the band struck up, at last, their first actual number, an understated yet soulful version of 'Round Midnight.

"Oh, really," Maura said, mischief sparking. She had missed sorely the ways they talked with one another, including the little jabs they gave one another. Theirs was one of the few relationships in her life in which the teasing was never meant to hurt or belittle, even if cloaked in an appearance of disparagement. When Jane called her fat, she knew it was because Jane thought she was fit and therefore her weight was a safe subject; when Jane called her nerdy, it meant that she respected Maura's intelligence. Hence, she had learned to dish out just as much, and as well, as she got. "So if we're not going steady, why am I sleeping with you tonight?"

Without missing a beat, Jane answered matter-of-factly, "Because I want you to." Her own answer stopped herself short, and the detective desperately tried to backtrack. "Well, I mean, not like _that_. I just... well... What? Why are you even asking me that?"

Maura laughed, tickled that she'd gotten under her best friend's skin. "Because it makes you squirm," came the honest answer, and she set down her drink to underscore it with a good, firm hug.

"By the way, Jane," she mentioned as the instrumental music gave way to a smooth-voiced tenor coming in with the lyrics, "not that I don't appreciate you getting rid of those guys, but I remember what happened last time we used this tactic with someone you knew. Giovanni spread the news of our faux relationship all around your high school. It presented you with problems, didn't it?"

"No, the murder sort of threw everyone off from wondering about it. The problems came in when he told me in front of Ma that he guessed I was interested in boobs, too." Jane made a face at the memory, her mind's eye still clearly seeing Angela's shocked face. "She asked me for two weeks after that if I was _sure_ you and I weren't more than best friends. Actually," she said, tilting her head to think on it, "she _still_ asks me that off and on. I think she's hoping I'll eventually tell her that you and I _are_ dating. She keeps hinting around about me dating a doctor."

Maura opened her mouth to respond, but Jane didn't notice, and continued on with her rambling stream-of-consciousness conversation. "I really don't want another drink. I'm thinking that might be a bad idea." She said it mostly to herself, but seemed to remember just in time that the other woman was within hearing distance. "Hey, you want something else to drink? I think I want soda."

"Okay," agreed Maura amiably, swinging her legs off Jane's lap. "Stay here, I'll get them." Then she spotted their watchers and leaned down to kiss Jane on the cheek before heading up to the bar.

She'd caught the bartender in just the right moment between one other patron and the next. "Coke Zero, if you have that. Diet Coke if not. Also, a cranberry juice with seltzer and a lime, please."

Jack, the more persistent admirer from before, slapped a ten dollar bill onto the bar top. "It's on us." Beside him, his friend seemed to have forgotten his lament about all the pretty ones being lesbian and was clearly approving of Jack's offer to pay.

"Thank you," Maura replied a little stiffly, not wanting to engage with the man, "but we're fine." Her own bill pushed towards the bartender, who accepted it without a word.

"Don't be like that," wheedled the man, slurring a bit more than previously. "Don't you want to be friends?"

"No," was Maura's instinctual reply, "I'd rather just be somewhere else. Pardon me," she asked the bartender as both drinks were set before her, "but is there a policy about serving intoxicated patrons?"

He looked from the woman to the two men at the side of the bar who were leering at her. "We do," he said with tight-lipped from. Turning to the men, he pointed at them. "I think it's time for you two to call it a night. You've hit the limit. 'm calling you a cab."

Maura smiled all the way back to her table, finally able to enjoy the music again. "They're leaving," she said as she resumed her seat, scooting her chair closer to Jane's, though she did not reclaim the lap in question. "I love this song!" It was an unusual arrangement of Satin Doll, another old jazz standard. As with the previous piece, this one began with a long instrumental covering before any vocal lyrics came along. "Oh, I wish there was a dance floor. Professor Howard's music deserves to have people moving to it."

"Charlie's good, but you'd be dancing alone. I have two left feet." Giving a smile of thanks, Jane picked up her drink. "He keeps saying I should pick up the guitar. 'Jane,' he says, 'you have the hands for it." Maura picked Jane's free hand, studied it carefully as Jane spoke, and nodded without explaining. "I don't even know what that means. Whatever. Piano is enough, thanks." With a shrug, she set the drink down again. "Anyway, glad those two are gone. Now I just have to worry about the twenty other single guys eyeballing us."

"Which guys?" Maura asked, voice carrying the slightest hint of affront as she made prudent haste to lean in and, with her arm at Jane's back, rested both hand and cheek on the nearest shoulder. Two could play the game of staking claim against all comers. Just because they were not actually dating didn't mean she wanted to be left at the table while Jane went off with someone else.

Not that she would. Jane understood that a friend was not to be ditched just because something better came along. Maura sighed in contentment and settled in to enjoy the remainder of their evening.

_Baby, shall we go out skippin'?_

_Careful, amigo, you're flippin'_

_Speaks Latin, that satin doll_

_She's nobody's fool, so I'm playin' it cool as can be_

_I'll give it a whirl, but I ain't for no one catchin' me_

_Ahhhhh - switcherooni_

Charlie Howard crooned into the microphone, his voice appealing in an untraditional way, as he sang Duke Ellington's words of admiration for a classy dame that had captured his heart. Once it looked as though he'd winked in their direction, but it was probably just the angle of the stage lighting.

* * *

_**Chapter title taken from a song by Duke Ellington and Billy Strayhorn, with lyrics by Johnny Mercer.**_

**Look up both of these songs. They're jazz standards, which means there are dozens, if not hundreds, of incredibly talented people, each giving their own musical arrangements and their own spin on the singing styles. There are also several gorgeous instrumental versions, often featuring soulful trumpet or saxophone, but not always. **


	7. Prelude to a Kiss

_**The penultimate chapter is upon us. We hope you enjoy it. We certainly did.**_

* * *

_**Chapter 7: Prelude to a Kiss**_

* * *

"I'm glad we left after Charlie's set," Jane opened her apartment door to let them both in. "That next band look kind of sketchy. Jo?" She looked around expectantly, but no little furry animal came running. "The hell? _Jo?_" A worried look crossed her face as she made a slow, sweeping check of her apartment, eyes landing on a note on her coffee table. "I think my dog has been dognapped," she grumbled as she walked over to pick up the paper.

She turned to face Maura again, paper held up. "Dear Janie," she started to read, making a face at the nickname, "I know you and Maura went out tonight. (See? I told you everything would turn out okay.)" She rolled her eyes. "So I figured you probably wouldn't want to walk little Jo-Jo tonight when you got home." She dropped the paper a bit to briefly explain, "Ma's started calling Jo 'Jo-Jo' for some ungodly reason. Anyway," she went back to the paper, "I came by, picked up Jo-Jo and dropped off Maura's overnight bag, the one she keeps in the hallway closet. It's in your bedroom. You two girls have a good night, and don't worry about me and the grandkids. We'll be fine. Love you both! Ma." Shaking her head in disbelief, Jane dropped the paper back onto the coffee table. "Grandkids?" She groaned. "I don't even want to know."

Maura's face was wreathed in smiles. "That was such a sweet thing to do. Grandkids... plural, which means she's found Bass's dinner and breakfast, too. I really need to do something nice for Angela soon."

With a final eyeroll to fully cover how she felt about it all, Jane looked back to Maura to ask in a lighter, less irritated tone, "Sleepy?"

"A little." Already, Maura was removing her shoes. "But I had so much fun tonight that I don't mind being a little tired. It was so good to go out and spend time and not have to be... Well." She cut herself off, realizing belatedly that talking about the difficulty between them lately would only bring it back. "I could sleep, but I don't have to do it right away, if you want to do something else."

Jane let it go. "I really don't. I'm beat. This week was rough, and I'm honestly tired. If you want to hit the bathroom first, that's fine. I can walk... nothing," she looked around, clearly miffed. "Ma's thrown my game off. Um, I can do _something_ while you're getting ready. Your toothbrush is still in the medicine cabinet, by the way." She turned around the room as if searching for something. "I'm going to... sit here." She shrugged, plopping down on the sofa. "When did my place get so freaking organized and clean?" With a grunt, she bent over to remove her boots, tossing them to one side of the sofa. "You going to the bathroom or what?"

Amusement decorated Maura's facial features; she'd tried interjecting commentary, but Jane was on a roll. Mentions of not taking that long, not minding if Jane came in and brushed her teeth at the same time, and reminding her that she'd always been fairly tidy had had no effect. The last question, therefore, surprised her by the very act of being last. "Yes," she replied upon realizing that a response was required.

"Just give me a few minutes to pee and wash my hands, and then you can come in. I don't want to monopolize your bathroom. Or if you want to go first, that's okay too. You probably should, in fact, since you tend to take shorter showers, and I'd rather be the one in there if the hot water runs out." Already she was on her way, snagging the overnight bag that Angela had so thoughtfully brought in for her and rummaging about for various items (including one more toothbrush).

"Okay, _I'll_ go first." Picking up her boots on the way, Jane stood and walked to her bedroom. She put her shoes away, pulled off her button down, hung it up, and walked into the bathroom to join Maura for teeth brushing activities. "It's not like I licked your toothbrush while you were... not... here." Grimacing at the awkward wording, she tried to move on as best she could as she put toothpaste on her toothbrush. "I mean, it's just like you left it. You really didn't need to bring out the backup. I think I might be insulted." She looked at Maura via the reflection in the mirror and winked. "Maybe I _should_ have licked it?"

As she caught Jane's eye in the mirror, Maura made a face. "Why would you lick my toothbrush? That's..." Her expression said _ew_ even though she did not vocalize the sound.

Jane only chuckled in response and continued to brush her teeth.

"No," explained Maura, "I simply had this one in my bag, and I like it better than the one I think I was using last time I was here. See? The bristles are different. Better for getting in between." She followed one step behind Jane: one brushed teeth, the other brushed hair and put it into a ponytail. One washed her face, the other flossed and THEN brushed her teeth and washed her face.

Maura turned on the water for the shower, letting it heat up a bit for Jane to take her turn. She'd never quite understood how someone with a taller figure, and therefore more surface area, could take so much less time to get clean. But the fact remained, Jane probably wouldn't take more than five or ten minutes under the water.

Then again, since she'd showered earlier before their jazz club visit, Maura didn't have quite as much to accomplish as usual, either. "I just realized I already shaved and washed my hair earlier, so if you're not ready for your turn in, I could be in and out before you're finished flossing." Which was a hint: flossing is good for you, and I'm going to look at you expectantly until you at least pick up the pack of floss, if not actually begin using it.

Narrowing her eyes but picking up the floss, Jane pulled out a long string. "Fine." She began to wind the string around her fingers. "I'll just step out so you can hop in." Maura's uncaring shrug might have been nervous-making, had Jane not been so tired, "but if I have to shower in cold water, I can't be held responsible for my actions." She gave a final pointed look before moving to the mirror in her bedroom.

"Time me, if you like," Maura replied airily, already shedding clothing.

True to her word, eight minutes later the door cracked open, and Maura emerged, still tying shut the towel. "If you hop right in, you won't even have to adjust the temperature. It got perfect about halfway through." Perfect meaning steaming hot; her skin was still pink as she dropped into a squat near her overnight bag and pulled out pajamas.

"Yeah," Jane's eyes grew large as she noted the state of undress of her friend, unable to stop herself from staring for a moment before shaking herself out of it. "I'll be back in a few."

* * *

"You do realize," the trademark husky voice floated through the air and rose over the sound of the music coming from the radio beside her bed, "that _your _side of the bed is just that, a side. It _is not_ the middle of the bed," She closed the bedroom door behind her before walking over to what would normally be her side of the bed.

Despite the irritation in her tone, her face showed her amusement. "Maura, come on! It's late. If you don't roll over, I'm laying on top of you."

"There's plenty of room," was the response, as Maura continued to smile serenely. Truth be told, she was not lying in the exact middle of the bed, but she was closer to it than to the outer edge where she normally began the night. "Now, shhh. I'm meditating."

"Don't shush me! Are you... are you _really_ shushing me?" Jane gave a huff and a little stomp of her foot. "No, no way. _My _bed, _my_ rules, and the rules are no meditating in the middle of the bed when Jane wants to go to sleep." The honey brunette did not make a motion to move, raising the ire of the woman standing beside the bed. "Maura? Maur'... come on! Seriously? Okay, that's it!"

With a battle cry and small snarl, the lanky detective lept onto the bed and wildly attacked her friend leaving no ticklish place untickled. "Say uncle!" She yelled over Maura's giggles and snorts. They had played this game before, and she knew the other woman would eventually gain control, stop being ticklish, and, likely, turn the tables, but Jane didn't care. Maura refused to move, and retaliation must be had! "Say it!"

"_Noooo!_" Maura shrieked stubbornly, through the little breath she was able to take in. "You'll never take me alive!" But try as she might, she could not get the upper hand. "Oh, you evil little... Not the hip, not the hip! _Aahh! _No! No! _No!_ Okay, uncle! Uncle! Jane, I said uncle, you have to - NO! You have to stop!"

Of course, there was no way Jane would stop just because Maura said so. She renewed her attack, which meant that Maura had to respond in some way other than by defense. Fortunately she was able to mount an offense by the time Jane was starting to think things were going her way this time after all. A hook of ankle around knee, a knee's sudden shove sideways and up, and a strategically placed combination of pokes just shy of causing pain, combined with light tickling strokes, right on the three most ticklish spots she'd ever found on Jane, and finally Maura was the one demanding, "Say it! Say uncle!" as she held Jane's wrists in just one hand, using the other to maintain tickling supremacy. "Ha! Say it!"

Gasping for breath and unable to move from the tickle attack, Jane managed to squeak out an 'uncle' in between giggles. As Maura stopped her attack, Jane tried to stop gasping for air. Between deep intakes of air, she managed to say, "Crap," gasp, "when did you get," another gasp, "so freaking strong?"

Maura sat back the instant 'uncle' was called, removing both the tickling hand and the one holding Jane's wrists down, and letting both rest on her thighs as she knelt over her friend. "I move bodies all day long. Most of them don't fight back, I'll admit, but you're not the heaviest thing I handle, by far." Smugness reigned for several more seconds as both women huffed their breathing back in order. Then without warning Maura dropped down and hugged Jane as best she could, considering she couldn't get her arms all the way around with the taller woman lying down. "God, I missed this."

It was a somewhat awkward moment as Jane tried to decide what to do first, but finally settled on shifting them both so she could lean against the headboard and return the embrace. Wrapping her arms around the smaller woman, she whispered, "I missed it, too." Holding back a sniffle, she asked in a shaky voice, "Are we going to be okay?"

Maura nodded as she clung to Jane for a little longer, then let go with reluctance. "Yes. I think... I hope we're okay _now._ Just now when I was meditating, I was considering my own actions." She sat back, looking as though she'd probably remain astraddle Jane's lap, but then changed her mind and climbed off.

Instead, she sat down right by Jane, so they could share the demarcation line between one side and the other. "The more I thought about it - and I thought about it a lot over the last few weeks - the more I realized that someone was going to get shot. Patrick Doyle had his gun, and you surely knew he was going to stop shooting, but Dean didn't. But then when Doyle didn't put down his weapon, it would have been so easy for you to misinterpret what he was doing. I know he wouldn't have shot me, but you didn't know that he wouldn't have shot you, so...

"And Dean was there because of what you told him, but Jane, I don't think he represented himself to properly, did he? Did he make you think he came to town for you?"

Jane slowly shook her head in the negative, afraid too much motion or too loud of a response would destroy the moment. She answered quietly, "Yeah, he did. At least, that's what he told me when he showed up outside my apartment. But, now I've had time to think about about, no, he didn't really show up for me. He showed up because he had a lead on Doyle."

Maura nodded. "Right. Well, if he could have..." She paused for a mental edit. "If he could be with you, in addition to completing his professional goals, of course he would. I blame him for playing you. I can't blame you for... Well, I could if I wanted to hold a grudge, but I don't. I don't want to keep punishing you for things that were the result of multiple actions by multiple people. So I'm not going to do it anymore. I'm glad to have you back in my life." One hand slipped into Jane's so she could tangle their fingers together. "I'm through trying to hurt you, and I'm through trying to justify my own feelings. It's time."

Swallowing down the lump in her throat, Jane didn't bother to stop the tear she felt slip down her face. "Thank you," she whispered, squeezing the hand in hers. "I know you keep telling me to stop, but I am so sorry for sleeping with Dean." The words were out before she could stop them, and, once out, she couldn't really argue that she didn't mean them. "I... I should have been with you and none of this would have happened." She sniffed, rolling her eyes up to stop the tears. "I promise I'll never do something so stupid again."

"Hey," Maura broke in softly, sitting up so she could turn and face Jane more properly. Since the facial tissues weren't kept on her side of Jane's bed, she leaned across, grabbed one, and dabbed at Jane's cheek. "Jane, don't. It's not stupid to try. You have such a big, beautiful heart, and wanting to find someone who's worth sharing it is not stupid. Maybe Dean isn't the right guy, but I think it's brave that you gave him a chance to show that he could be. And," she concluded in an attempt at gentle humor, "at least you got laid, so now when you're grumpy, people can't just assume that's the problem. Right?"

The humor worked. Jane chuckled. "Okay, first of all," she said as she pulled another tissue and wiped at her eyes, "that was a month ago, so I'm pretty sure they can still say I need to get laid. Once, a month ago, after over a year's dry spell probably isn't enough." She allowed herself another laugh. "Second of all, I'm not sure that I was really looking for Dean to be the one. I think... I don't know... maybe I was just looking for a Mr. Right Now, if that makes sense? I don't think we'd work out as a couple. He's too," she made a vague gesture with her hand. "_something_, but it's not something I need. I think I need someone who is my equal, not just someone who who will roll with my punches, you know?"

There was a lot to process there, a lot to respond to. Maura considered her options. No, once a year or less wasn't enough, and at least now Jane was acknowledging the fact that she was not cut out for a life of celibacy. She could certainly understand the desire for an occasional fling, and if Dean had been right for that, well, who was Maura to judge? She'd slept with Byron Slucky, for goodness' sake, and was in no position to judge.

In the end, she chose to remain silent on all those things, because the item that caught her attention was one that Jane probably hadn't really noticed herself saying. "So, you do need someone?"

A blank look met the deceivingly simple sounding question. Wheels clearly turning in the dark haired woman's head, she stared at the other woman for a time as if trying to make the words asked make sense. Finally, she answered in a tone that didn't sound as though she was absolutely positive of the answer she gave, "Well, yeah. I mean, everyone needs someone, right?" She pulled her eyebrows down in thought as she chewed at her bottom lip. "I'd like to think there's _someone_ out there that could put up with me... that would _want_ to put up with me. Don't you? I mean, don't you think there's someone out there that's right for you? I can't imagine you'd be alone forever, Maur'. You're too," she shrugged, "_you_ to be alone forever."

"Stop that," Maura said, reaching to take the used tissue and put it on her side table until morning. "Don't lower your standards. You can expect a lot more than just someone putting up with you. Someone is going to think, figuratively speaking, that you hung the moon and stars. If you stop undervaluing yourself and just accept that you're terrific, people with eyes to see will be lining up for a chance to try to be what you want."

Jane shrugged. "I just want someone who gets me, gets along with my family, can accept my job, and isn't afraid to tell me when I'm being too full of awesome for my own good." A small smirk crossed her face. "That should be plenty easy to find, right? I'll just go out during my downtime and find someone like that. Sure. No problem." Shaking her head, she gave a sigh. "I think I need a you," she chuckled, running her free hand over her face to rub at her eyes and push the hair from her face.

"Aw," Maura replied with a smile that practically made her glow. "That is sweet. But see?" She scooted down so that her head could rest on the pillow once more, this time a bit closer to her own side of the bed. "Now that you know what you want to find, it really shouldn't be that hard to find someone who meets that standard. You just have to be open to looking for him." She rolled far enough to turn off her own bedside lamp, then back towards Jane. "Ready to sleep?"

Jane looked down at Maura, who was now half hidden in shadow, and gave a grunt. "Can't I just keep you instead?" Sighing, she turned to her own lamp, turned it off, and scooted down to lay on her back. "I mean, you do all those things. Who needs to get laid, right?" There was a high level of self loathing as she ranted aloud. "There are toys for that anyway." She pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes and gave a groan of frustration. "I'm sorry, Maura. I don't really know how we turned this night into a conversation about my crappy love life."

"Isn't that what usually happens?" Maura chuckled. "Either it's your love life, or our work, and I find your love life to be the more interesting of the two, after a certain hour. Less likely to keep me awake thinking about all the work I have tomorrow or the next day, anyway. But speaking of toys," she added after a moment, "did you know that the first vibrator was invented in the 1860s for the treatment of the condition known as female hysteria? It was a table with a hole in it, and below the opening was a sort of... Ferris wheel, I suppose, of rollers. The doctor would stand beside the table and turn the handle, which would send the rollers whizzing along at rapid speeds. The patient, meanwhile, would be lying atop the table, face down, and..."

"_Thank you_ talking Google," Jane reached over and, with a bit of luck, managed to cover Maura's mouth with her fingertips. "I'd rather not talk about other women getting off while in my bed where that doesn't happen. It seems wrong... somehow." Peering through the dim light provided by the moonlight seeping around the curtain, she made eye contact with the honey brunette. "Okay?"

Maura nodded acceptance of the terms, though she did look concerned. Fortunately for Jane's sanity, she abandoned that line of thought for the moment. "All right, but still, you do need to get laid. I don't mean you're grouchy right now, because you're not... more grouchy than usual. I just mean that you shouldn't discount the necessity, in a relationship. So the answer's no."

"No." The detective tried to follow the line of the thought. Leaning on one arm, she looked down at the other woman. "No?" She rolled the answer around in her mind, trying to figure out what the meaning behind the word was. "No? What do you mean no? No what? _No_, you're not going to stop about women getting off while you're in my bed? Because, if that's the case, I might have to go sleep on the couch again."

"No," Maura repeated, "you can't just keep me. You need love in your life. Neither of us would be happy with that."

"Sooooo," Jane pulled out the word as she processed, "are you saying you're _not_ going to stick around? I thought you said you forgave me. I mean, I... Maura, you _can't_ leave me now. We just got over being mad at each other." There was a rising panic in her voice, and she sat up in bed, facing the smaller woman, as she pleaded. "You can't just go! I... no... _no_... We _just_ fixed this!"

Worry shot through Maura's expression as she sat up too, placing her hand on Jane's arm to calm her. "No. Jane, no, that's not... I meant to say, you can't keep me _in lieu_ of a healthy romantic or sexual life. Not that you couldn't keep me at all. I'm here. Okay? I'm here. Come on." She lay back down, exerting just a little pressure on Jane's upper arm to bring her back to the horizontal as well. "But a friend, no matter how close, isn't a substitute for a romantic relationship. You deserve to have that. Even if it's with a guy version of me."

Complying with Maura's urging, Jane laid down again, but the panic didn't subside. "Please," she said with some level of despair evident in her voice as she turned her back to the honey brunette, "there's only _one_ of you, Maur'. Male or female," she said with a sigh as she settled on her side, "you're the only you out there."

"Hm," Maura replied as she rubbed along Jane's shoulders, trying to dispel some of the tension carried there so that Jane could relax and fall asleep. "Then I guess you know where to start looking. Good night, Jane."

"Hmph," was the response. "In my dreams," Jane grumbled before closing her eyes and hoping for sleep.

* * *

Saturday morning found them in the same position they were in when they finally fell asleep Friday night. Jane hugged the side of the bed, and the dirty look she gave the sunlight as it streamed through the crack in her curtains did nothing to deter the happy beams.

With a sigh, she rolled out of bed, careful not to wake Maura, shuffled to the bathroom, and ran through her morning routine. The shower was very welcome to her tired and sore muscles. She was certain she had slept with every muscle in her body tensed, and the hot water beating down on her knotted and painful body made her groan in relief.

The previous night was hazy in her half awake mind, but, as she replayed the events of the night before, a thought flashed through her mind. "Holy crap," she said aloud, "Maura told me she's interested in me."

"She's also interested in peeing," came a voice from outside the bathroom. "But no rush. I'll put the coffee on."

Jane froze. "Thanks?" She called out before turning the tap off and stepping out of the shower. She stood in the bathroom, unsure of what to do. Finally deciding it was silly of her to think she could hide in there forever, she finished drying off, securely wrapped a towel around her, and took in a deep breath. Confidently stepping out, she said in what she intended to be an equally confident voice, "All yours." However, her voice betrayed her, and it cracked like a teenage boy's.

Blushing, she hurried into her bedroom and closed the door behind her, hoping that Maura hadn't caught the high level of freaking out that was currently going on in the detective's normally cool and collected head.

Maura's attention was on the refrigerator; if she registered any panic or voice cracking, she did not react outwardly. "I showered last night," she reminded Jane over her shoulder, then, "How old are these English muffins?" She opened the muffin container, sniffed, and closed the refrigerator door with the muffins still in her hand. "Never mind. They'll be fine once we toast them." Suiting word to action, she separated tops and bottoms from three - each of them could easily eat one and a half of the things - and put them in the oven before heading back to the bathroom for her turn at tooth brushing time.

Jane paced in her bedroom. _What do I do with this completely new piece of information?_ She really didn't know, but she knew that she couldn't just ignore it. Of course Maura would be perfectly calm about it all. She'd probably been open to a relationship for months, or longer.

Pulling out a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, she tried to focus on just getting dressed. The process seemed much more difficult than it ought to be. Black boy shorts, matching bra, pull on the jeans, then the shirt, and dressed. That should not be difficult to do, but she felt clumsy, and her hands felt numb.

How had she missed this? As a detective by trade and, admittedly, a touch nosy by nature, there was no reason for her to have missed this, yet she had. Jane sat down on the end of her bed, letting her face fall into her hands. Was she really freaked out about the idea Maura was interested in her, or was she freaked out that she wasn't really freaked out? _Or _was she freaked out _because_ Maura wasn't freaked out and she _was_ freaked out?

She honestly didn't know, but now that the cat was out of the bag, she _did _know she wasn't interested in trying to get it back in the bag. She definitely wanted to address this, whatever it ended up being.

With some resolve and a lot of panic, she stepped out of her bedroom and padded into the kitchen to pour herself a cup of coffee and sit down to wait for Maura to come out of the bathroom.

Maura emerged with brushed teeth, mostly-orderly hair, wearing the jeans and what she called an _adorable_ sweater from her overnight bag. "I don't smell English muffins," she realized as she got herself a glass of water, foregoing caffeine since it wasn't a work day. "I put them in the... I forgot to turn it on, didn't I?" Bare feet made little soft sounds against the floor as she walked over, confirmed the situation, and turned the oven on. "So, how did you sleep?"

"I've slept better," Jane sipped her coffee, "but I've slept worst. Had a funny dream involving me in a tux, you, and some weird garden thing." She shrugged. "I don't know. How about you?"

"In a garden?" Maura repeated. "How odd. Hm. No, I slept... fine, I suppose. I'm just glad it's a weekend, because if I'd awakened at the normal time, I'd probably feel dreadful right now. But I did dream well. I dreamed that we were back at the club. Not the same club, because there was a dance floor, but at least Professor Howard was still playing with his band. They're so good. Thank you for taking me to hear them last night."

"Anytime. Charlie's always trying to get me to go see his band." Jane finished her coffee and glanced to the oven. "Who knows? Maybe I'll take him up on that offer to learn to play the guitar? I can learn it in, you know, my 'spare time' or something." She snorted at her own joke.

Setting her empty mug down, she looked as though she was about to ask the big, unasked question, only to change her mind at the last moment and ask instead, "Are the muffins ready yet?"

Sniffing the air delicately, Maura agreed that they might be, and hopped up to check, as well as prepare a tray with the butter, jam, and two little plates for the muffins themselves. By the time she'd arranged it to her satisfaction, the muffins were actually ready, so she brought them all out to the coffee table. "Maybe you should learn guitar. You already play a much more complicated instrument. You already read music, and presumably understand chord structure and music theory. All that would really be needed would be to train your hands, and I think your hands are suited to it." A repetition of many of Charlie's statements.

Lanky shoulders gave a shrug. "Maybe." Jane picked up a muffin and started to spread a bit of butter over it, but stopped, placing both muffin and butter knife back down on her little plate. "Maura, were you really serious?" Turning her head to looked at the honey brunette, her eyes held all the panic and uncertainty she had felt since her shower that morning. "What happened to not being your type, and us not being interested in women, and you not wanting to sleep with me? What about all of that?"

"What?" asked Maura, head tilted to one side in what appeared to be honest confusion. Her hands stilled, halfway through buttering her first muffin. "Where is this coming from?"

"Last night when you told me that I knew where to look and this morning when I was talking to myself in the shower, and you answered me anyway." Jane turned her body to face Maura. "I have to know now. I can't just let it go. Now that it's up there," she pointed to her head, "rattling around and disrupting stuff, I have to know, Maur'. _Were_ you serious?"

"Serious about what? Look for wh..." Confusion, and then it slowly gave way to enlightenment. "Oh. Because you said you were looking for... Ah." Maura set down her half-buttered English muffin and shifted to face Jane. "You have me, Jane. You have me in your life for as long as you want me, and I'm not going anywhere. Okay? You're too important for me to let us get to that point again. If what you're looking for _is_ me, my friendship, look no further. You've got me."

Her voice took on a gentleness as Maura continued to explain. "I think you need and deserve to have someone to love you, too. I mean, romantically. You're a wonderful person, and if there's a guy out there that has any of the qualities I have, that you like, then I hope you find him. And I hope he has more qualities that you like, too, ones that I don't have. I hope he's amazing, and I hope he's perfect for you, and I hope he can be _everything_ that you need, and not only another best friend. That's what I meant to say last night. I guess I was too tired to word myself with my usual standard of... precision. I'm sorry for confusing you, and I'm sorry it made you nervous." She paused to go over what she'd said, assess whether more was needed. She couldn't quite be sure, so she asked, "Does that answer satisfy?"

Jane made a face and stood up, giving a harsh laugh. "Yeah, yeah that makes perfect sense. Does it satisfy me? No, not really." The lanky woman paced her living room. "I don't know what I was thinking. Of course you wouldn't _actually_ be interested in dating me."

"No, that's not..."

Jane shook her head, running a hand through her hair. Talking to herself more than the other person in the room, she headed to her bedroom. "God, what the hell is wrong with me? Why would I ever think...? I don't even know." She was ranting.

"If you'd just listen..."

She pulled out a pair of socks and plopped down on her bed to put them on along with her shoes as she continued her ranting. "It's like, every time I _think_ I might have something figured out, it's nothing _at all_ close to what I think it is."

"Jane, I really think that if you let me speak..."

She stood up, continuing to completely ignore the honey brunette who had followed her and was trying to get a word in edgewise. "I can't win! I _cannot_ freaking win." She pulled her keys from where they hung beside the door and whipped around to finally address Maura, who was caught up short, chasing so closely behind that the sudden turn nearly gave them both a bonk in the face.

"I can't decide if we're both just hard headed, if you throw off mixed signals, or if I'm just delusional. _Whatever_ the issue is, I can't deal with it anymore. I don't want to find a _guy_ just like you to date, Maura. If I did, I would have by now. We've known each other for over four years. I think I could have found a guy by now if I was really looking, but I wasn't. I _thought_ I figured out why. Hell, maybe I have, and now I'm just screwed."

Maura blinked owlishly, and then her focus intensified. "Jane, are you saying...?" Yet again, she was cut off.

Jane pulled the door open. "I'm pretty sure I just want to date you, but, really - at this point..." She stepped into the hallway. "I can't deal. I need to take a walk. Be here or don't when I get back. Lock the door if you leave."

With that parting demand, Jane turned on her heels and left, heading outside and into the bright Saturday morning to clear her mind and calm her frazzled and upset nerves and leaving Maura standing just inside her apartment door.

* * *

_**Chapter title taken from a song by Duke Ellington with lyrics by Irving Gordon and Irving Mills.**_

**Before anyone gets upset that the chapter title includes the word "kiss" and there was no kiss, I'd like you to remember the definition of the word "prelude." You're welcome. :)**


	8. Night and Day

**This is the final chapter. Thank you so much for coming with us on this journey. We hope you've enjoyed it as much as we have.**

* * *

******Chapter 8: Night and Day**

* * *

Confusion grew, along with a vague sense of loss. What had just happened? Maura had tried so hard to reassure Jane, and she'd been so careful about her words, making up for last night's slip. The reassurance had not only not worked, but had seemed to cause Jane even greater distress. Worse, she'd kept moving around, turning away. Maura could not follow the minutiae of Jane's facial expression under such conditions; she had no way of being certain whether Jane was angry, scared, sad, or... Well, no, _happy_ was almost assuredly not on the list of possibilities.

...And yet.

Jane had said the magic words, hadn't she? She'd been agitated in the extreme, ranting, but she had said them. Had she meant them, or was it just an unusual moment of synchronicity between an unthinking rant and a bout of serious wishful thinking?

Maura sighed. She would not know until she could ask Jane. That was that. No more hinting, no more coyness, no more edging sideways like a crab. There was nothing for it but to speak her thoughts and ask her questions directly, and, if she had misjudged the situation, accept the embarrassment that would come with it. It was unfortunate timing, given that they had only just made it back to solid ground in their friendship, but she would have to trust in the strength of _them._

She set herself to cleaning the kitchen, making the bed, and completing her morning grooming and dressing. She had, after all, promised Jane that she wasn't going anywhere.

* * *

Down the stairs, out the door, down another set of stairs, and Jane was on her way to anywhere that Maura wasn't. She fumed, she mentally ranted, and she looked anger-crazed enough for the people sharing the sidewalk with her to give her a wide berth as she stomped by.

Around the corner, across the street, down an alleyway, and she found herself at the park. She stopped walking and looked around, taking in the bright green foliage, clear blue sky, and quiet morning.

The scene was surprisingly settling.

Taking a seat on a park bench, she watched the people around her, letting her mind settle and go blank for just a bit. She'd thought too much already. She needed the mental break.

The park was her favorite place to people watch. Everyone came to the park, and you never knew what interesting story you might be able to watch unfold. Not far from her, there was a family - mom, dad, and child - playing with a Frisbee. The little girl's laughter pealed through the air, but it was just background noise to Jane.

Elsewhere in the distance, two joggers were making their way up the trail. The men looked as though they might be racing each other. One would get ahead and the other would make an angry face and push to take the lead. As soon as one was in the lead, the other would fight to take over. It was a silent battle of wills, physical endurance, and testosterone.

Jane laughed at the them. If they would learn to keep pace with each other, they'd be able to last longer, get a better workout, and probably not want to die from exhaustion by the end of their run. It always irritated her how men seemed to need to prove they were the best. They always need to prove that they're number one, the top dog, the alpha ma...

She sat up from her bent over position on the bench. Who was she kidding? She acted just as poorly as most men. She was just as guilty of trying to be the alpha male... _fe_male... _pack leader_... Whatever. The point was, she had a need to be the one in charge, to be the best.

That's how she managed to be the youngest detective on homicide. She was the best, and she didn't let anyone forget it. She was the alpha of her family within her generation, only bowing to her mother as a show of respect, but not truly allowing Angela to be in charge. She was even the leader in her group of friends. Everyone looked to her for final approval on plans. Everyone, that is, except Maura.

Maura was always the different one. In truth, the doctor was the one person in Jane's life that Jane willingly gave control over to, which is why this morning had exploded. The detective in her had asked a straightforward question. _Was_ Maura serious when she said she was interested in Jane? Maura, in her typical manner, had answered with a non answer, and the alpha impulse in Jane, the need to be the one in control, had sent her off in a rampage because what she heard was, "I hope you find a guy like me so you'll be happy", which was not the answer she wanted to hear.

Jane felt out of control of the situation, and that feeling was unacceptable to her, which is why she had stormed off.

Had it been anyone else but Maura, Jane would have remained in her apartment and fought to gain that control back, but it _was _Maura. The last thing Jane wanted to do was fight with Maura again. She didn't want to give up control completely to the other woman, but she didn't want to be completely out of control either. She wanted... _balance_.

So what _had_ Maura _actually _said?

Now that Jane was calmer, she leaned back on the bench and replayed the morning again. This time, she approached the conversation with a true detective's eye, and what she saw there made her want to smack herself.

"Nothing to do but go back, hope she's home, and eat a little crow," she mumbled as she stood up and walked back to her apartment, finally ready to find balance. At least, she hoped she would be able to find balance. "We'll see."

* * *

Jane slowly opened her apartment door and stepped inside. The bright light from the outside streamed in from the windows where Maura had pulled the curtains back and the shades up. The room was blessedly cool, and she was relieved to find the honey brunette busily attending to something in the kitchen.

She closed the door behind her, locking it, before turning back around to awkwardly put her hands in her pockets and shift her weight where she stood. Instead of moving into the living space, she remained by the front door as she gathered courage. In the end, the only thing she could manage to say was, "Hey."

The door opening had alerted Maura to Jane's presence, but she didn't turn around until her knife stopped moving, and a row of evenly sliced tomato lay on the cutting board. She even set down the knife and rinsed her hands first, giving her time to come up with something to say. As she turned, Maura looked as though she had something on her mind, but the sight of Jane took the words away again, and all that came out was an echo. "Hey."

"Listen, I... um... you," Jane winced at her lack of words. "I'm glad you're still here. I wanted to apologize for walking out like that. I shouldn't have done that."

"No, that was fair," Maura replied as she removed Angela's apron and folded it to set aside. "I ran, metaphorically speaking, so of course you did, too."

A look of surprise crossed Jane's face as she took in that remark. "Well, okay, fair enough." Moving into the kitchen, she stopped a few feet from Maura, making certain there was distance between them. "So, what now? I mean, I ran off ranting like a lunatic, and I said a bunch of stuff. What-" she glanced around her, looking anywhere but at the doctor, "What did you hear?"

The diminutive woman leaned slightly back against the counter, mimicking what most people would consider a pose of relaxation. "Enough to know that I shouldn't have taken the route that I took." Her lips pursed as she considered her options, how much to edit. "I _was_ tired last night, and I said something I shouldn't have said. We just got _us_ back. I shouldn't have voiced that thought."

"Okay," trying valiantly not to look as deflated as she felt, Jane crossed her arms about herself and walked over to the wall beside the hallway. She leaned against it, keeping her eyes on the floor. "Do you want to pretend like everything from last night to about three seconds ago didn't happen? I don't know if I can do that, but I guess I could try." Her frown grew. There was no question, based on her body language, that she was shutting down and preparing for whatever the worst was about to be.

Autumn-hued waves jostled one another as Maura shook her head and repeated, "I should not have _voiced_ that thought." She gave a head-tilt, this one beckoning Jane to hear the emphasis, and interpret it. "But once I did, I shouldn't have tried to explain my way out of it. We just got back together as friends. I should have trusted that friendship enough to speak the rest of what was on my mind.

"I do want..." She trailed off, took a deep breath, and tried again. "I want you to be happy. I want you to have what you want and need, whatever that is. Even if it's a guy who's like me... instead of me."

"Yeah, we're just going to keep doing this, aren't we?" Shaking her head, Jane finally looked up. "Every time I think I can say this, I feel like I'm about to have a panic attack," she rolled her eyes.

"Then let me say it," Maura broke in, albeit softly, leaving the kitchen and coming to stand closer to Jane. Within arm's reach, but not so near as to crowd. "I didn't tell you that for the sake of this moment. I told you that to correct what I said before you left.'

She moved to lean against the wall next to Jane, her foot, still bare, came up to rest on the wall behind her as she leaned, using its location as the reason for standing near instead of granting a bit more space. "You deserve someone to love you, who can be everything that you need. That's what I said, isn't it? What I meant..." Maura took another deep breath. "Last night you said you wanted a guy version of me. If that's what you want, then that's what I want you to have, and I would get used to seeing that. And if what you want from me is to be your best friend, while you... I suppose, use me as a template for a man that could be the rest of what you're looking for, then I'll consider it flattering, and it will make me feel good. Until you find him, and I have to see him in your life instead of me."

Jane groaned. "Yeah, you didn't say it." Swiping a hand over her face, she stared ahead of her instead of looking to the side where the smaller woman was propped up next to her on the wall. "Thing is, I meant what I said when I was ranting." A humorless chuckle escaped her. "Some people are honest drunks. I'm an honest... I don't know... ranter." She shrugged. "I don't want to date a guy _like _you, Maura." Dark brown eyes shifted back down to the tiles of her kitchen floor. "I never have. Even before everything that's gone down over the past couple of months, I... well, you've always been," she stopped talking.

Breath becoming more shallow, the normally in-control detective bent over, placing her hands on her knees and forcing herself to take in big breaths of air before she started again. Like ripping a bandage off, she forced out the thought before nothing would come out at all. "I want to date _you_."

Finally having said it, she let out a huge sigh as she allowed herself to slip down to the ground. She sat with her back against the wall, knees pulled up to her chest, and arms wrapped around her legs. Her eyes stared, unseeing, in front of her. Slowly, because her mouth had trouble forming the words, she said, "I cannot believe I got that out."

Maura stood, stunned, for several seconds even after Jane had sunk to the floor, but once she could move again, she dropped to her knees right beside her friend and enfolded the wiry woman in her arms. "This is why you're a cop and a hero, and I'm a lab nerd," she whispered, not quite able to get her voice past her own throat at first. "You are so brave."

Jane countered in a stiff voice. "I am so scared I can't feel my face."

With one more strong squeeze around Jane's shoulders, Maura sat back on her heels, still quite close, and used one soft finger to nudge under her friend's chin. "It's still there. Look at me?"

Her own features demonstrated amply her admiration for Jane's courage, compassion, and deep affection. "Ask me again."

Swallowing down the lump, Jane stared dumbly at the other woman for a very long time before she parted her now dry lips and asked in a cracking voice, "Ask you what?"

"Anything," Maura replied, looking more open than she had in the longest time. "Everything. I won't prevaricate anymore."

The lanky woman considered the offer for a time, eyes closing as she pulled her face away and leaned her head back against the wall. "I'm going to ask, but just let me down gently, okay?" She took in a deep breath and finally asked the question they were both dancing around. "Are you interested in being with me in a..."

"Yes," Maura broke in as Jane faltered over terminology. "I am. Very."

"I hate it when you do that." Despite the chastisement, Jane chuckled. "In a _romantic_ way was what I was going to say, and, given your need for precise terminology and my need for personal reassurance right now, I think I would feel a lot better if you said yes to the entire question." She opened her eyes and turned her head to make eye contact. "So? _Are_ you really interested in being with me in a romantic way? Not just friends. Not just friends with benefits or something like that? But, I mean, you know, in an exclusive, we'll give this a try, kind of way?"

"Yes. I like you as my friend. I love you as my best friend." Maura's hand reached to sweep unruly curls back from Jane's face once more. "And I want you as my girlfriend. Or something else that doesn't sound quite so high school. I just... got scared, when the subject came up so soon after... the... difficulties. I was going to wait a lot longer, but I can't just keep letting you think I don't want you. I do. Do you know how hard it was to just let you go to sleep last night?"

"Tell me."

"Torture," Maura replied with a smile of sheepishly remembered anguish. "I wanted to tell you, and I wanted so much to be able to hold you. But then I thought about how wrong it could go, and how I'd have to go home and feel terrible and awkward all over again, and maybe lose what we'd just started rebuilding. It scared me so much that I couldn't make myself take that chance."

"Fair enough." Jane let go of her legs and straightened them out in front of her, resting her hands in her lap. "I was honestly too sleepy last night to realize what I'd said. This morning in the shower, however, it all kind of hit me." She shrugged. "Sometimes I'm a little slow." She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. "You know, this is going to be awkward if we let it. I really don't want to let it, but I'm not really sure how to _not_ be awkward around you. You," she blushed, "sort of make me feel like a teenage boy with his first crush. I don't even know what to do with my hands anymore. It's... weird." She winced. "Sorry."

"Give them to me," Maura offered, rising to her knees and taking Jane's hands to pull the taller woman and herself to standing. She did not let them drop, but stepped a tad closer to be within prime hugging range. "I'm glad you're not a teenaged boy." One of her own hands, then the other, turned within Jane's to begin a series of very light, kind strokes along Jane's palms, down the inner edge of each finger to the tip, waking up the nerve endings to make their clumsiness slink away in defeat. Then she took one to give it a light but thorough massage, including but not limited to the scar tissue at the center; then the other.

Finally, Maura took each of those hands in hers, placed them around her own waist, and wrapped her own arms around Jane's shoulders as if to slow-dance. "Better?"

"I think I forgot how to breathe," was the only answer Jane could muster. Eyes large, body rigid, she made an attempt at moving. But her hands remained where Maura had placed them, and her body seemed to not want to cooperate. "I never realized how tiny you are." She made a face at her own awkward sentences even as Maura smiled at them. "I mean, I'm glad you're glad I'm not a teenaged boy?" She winced. "My brain isn't working really well at the moment, sorry. How about... yes, that's better, but I think I really need to sit down on the sofa for a little bit because I'm feeling a little light headed."

Maura replied by stepping away, sliding her hands down Jane's arms, and catching up the other woman's hands to lead them towards the sofa. "So am I. But, you know... I didn't have a panic attack, and you haven't so far, either. We're still okay."

Jane took a seat. Dazed, she processed again. Everything seemed to take much longer than normal for her wrap her mind around. As Maura took a seat beside her, she slowly turned her head. "No, I _am not_ okay. The last time I was this weird, I wound up with a hickey and the quickest lesson in makeup application I've ever had from a drag queen at the all night drugstore down the street from the house."

She shook her head. "Best ten minute lesson I ever learned." She chuckled, mind falling into the story as way of pulling out of the moment for a bit. "I was so sure Ma was going to kill me that I panicked and ran out of Chris's house as soon as I realized I had a hickey. I ran straight for the drugstore. I lucked out that there was just the cashier there, who happened to be a this really large, very loud, very _obvious_ drag queen. She took one look at me, and said, 'Girl, your momma's gonna be all _kinds_ of up on you if you don't cover that thing up. Come on, and let me show you what you need to do."

She gave an honest laugh. "It was one of the luckiest breaks I ever had as a teenager. Ma never figured it out. She was just excited that I was starting to get into wearing makeup. You know how she is," she mimicked her mother. "Jane, be a girl."

Shrugging, she ran a hand through her hair, shaking the curls to loosen them a bit. "Have I ever told you that story before?"

Maura's head shook. "No, but I'm glad that you had that assistance. I'm also glad you're who you are, even if you're not the same kind of girl that Angela thinks she wants you to be." Her eyes followed the other woman's fingers as they tousled those wild locks of hair, then returned to Jane's eyes. "I know you're nervous. I am, too. But are you truly not okay? Because if you're not, we don't have to... do or be anything that you aren't ready for."

"I'm okay." At Maura's questioning look, Jane rolled her eyes and took the other woman's hand in her own. "I _am_. I'm just lost. What do we do now? I'd say we should go on a date, but we sort of do that anyway, and, before you say it, I realize they weren't classified as dates so it probably doesn't count, but still," she shrugged. "There is a lot of stuff I'd _like_ to do and some things I'd rather wait on. I just don't want to do or say the wrong thing and be back to spending nights alone at my place with nothing but Jo and a box of pizza to keep me company, you know?"

"That's not going to happen, Jane. I want you to be with me. I don't care if we're here, or at my place, or out somewhere, or just working late at the precinct, but I want to be with you." Fingers shifted, and Maura transferred claim of both of Jane's hands into just one of hers, leaving the other free to smooth the ringlets back from her face. "There's a lot I want to wait for, too. And there are some things I think we've waited for long enough. I'd like to take you on a proper date, for starters. One where we both know it's a date. You'll put on something that makes you feel gorgeous, and no, it doesn't have to be a dress. I'll pick you up, bring you something sweet or some flowers. Open doors, pull out your chair. Pick up the check without you fighting me for it, because you know I want to treat you. What do you think?"

"That people are going to be really confused about our general roles in this relationship, and I have just the dress in mind." With a small smile gracing her face, Jane couldn't help but add, "You know, when everyone finds out about this, they'll just assume I'm the guy."

Maura only chuckled. "Assuming there's a guy in an all-female relationship is like assuming that one chopstick just _has_ to be the fork. I don't care about other people's confusion. It will simply be due to the heteronormative assumptions of modern Western society, and anyway, they're not the ones dating you."

She took a moment to pause, then added, "You know, there's something else I don't want to wait for anymore." Hazel eyes drifted down her friend's... girlfriend's... face. No, not drifted. Sauntered. Lazily, taking their time and their ease, until landing on Jane's lips.

Finally, a true Rizzoli smirk settled in as Jane leaned in. "That's on my to-do list, too," she whispered before moving in and placing a gentle kiss on the lips of the other woman.

What Maura thought was going to be a sigh of relief and released tension - _at last!_ - was neither. It was all she could do to just let herself be kissed chastely, without intensifying it. She was the first to pull back, but the expression on her face left no room for interpretation: she had wanted that kiss, wanted it to still be going on, and only stopped at the last instant when she still could. "God," she exhaled.

"Jane's good for right now, but I'll take 'God' for later," the detective winked.

Maura nodded, but with feeling. "I have no doubt."

* * *

_**Finis.**_

_**Chapter title taken from a song by Cole Porter.**_

**For those who have asked in reviews, PMs, and so on, yes, we were taking a break. We are good friends and enjoy writing together, but once in a while a person needs to take a break, learn on their own, and then come back to the partnership and share their growth, so both can benefit from it. Since we're back in harness together as writers, we thought it fitting to make this a "back together again" fic. Thank goodness our separation was for good reasons, not like Jane's and Maura's! We hope to continue writing together, separately, and with others. We learn more that way, and I personally think the fics will be better going forward because of what we've both been working on over the last few months.**

**With love for all things Rizzles,**

**AdmHawthorne and Googlemouth**


End file.
